UC-NRLF 


SB    Efi    7MM 


THE  HEART 
OF  THINGS 


CO 

o 


O 


BY 
EM.WALKER 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT  OF 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


BY 

H.  M.  WALKER 


c     - 

UNn  : 


THE  SEGNOGRAM  PUBLISHING  CO. 

LOS  ANGELES,  CAL. 

1906 


COPYRIGHT  1906 

BY 
H.  M.  WALKER 


We  grow  through  expression — and  if  you  know  things,  there  is  a  strong 
desire  to  express  them.  It  is  Nature's  way  of  deepening  our  impressions — 
this  thing  of  recounting  them.  And,  happy,  indeed,  are  you  if  you  know  a 
soul  with  whom  you  can  converse  at  your  best. — Elbert  Hubbard. 


INTRODUCTION 

"All  is  eligible  to  All, 
All  is  for  individuals,  all  is  for  you, 
No  condition  is  prohibited,  not  God's  or  any." 

—Walt  Whitman. 


HEN  Greek  meets  Greek"— look  out! 
When  Love  meets  Love,  look  in! 
The  human  being  does  not  live  who 
is  not  susceptible  to  the  touch  of 
Love.  It  makes  no  difference  who 
the  man  or  woman,  nor  how  cal- 
loused the  heart  has  grown  in  this 
fight  for  bread,  and  the  mad  rush 
for  place,  and  pelf  and  power,  if 
Love  will  place  her  hand  upon  the 
arm,  and  whisper  the  word  of  sym- 
pathy into  the  hardened  ear,  and  to 
the  heart-sick  soul,  the  whole  com- 
plexion of  life  will  change  and  a 
responsive  chord,  long  dead,  shall  be 
awakened.  Sympathy,  the  world 
needs  more  than  salvation.  The 
man  whose  life  has  been  unprofit- 
able; whose  hopes  have  not  been 
realized;  whose  faith  in  his  fellows 
has  been  shaken,  and  who  feels  that 
emptiness  of  life  which  brings  a 
longing  to  the  heart  for  fellowship; 
to  him  Love  can  go  and  he  will 
listen. 

fl  There  are  times  in  the  experience 
of  us  all  when  we  labor  seemingly 
in  vain ;  when  companions  desert  us 
7 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  sympathy  flows  ever  in  the  opposite  direction. 
At  such  times  we  grope  as  in  the  dark  for  a  beam  of 
light  to  lighten  our  way,  and  it  does  not  come.  We 
do  not  know  which  way  to  turn,  and  the  cry  of  the 
heart  is  for  sympathy !  Sympathy !  Love ! 
In  writing  this  book  the  writer  has  sought  to  avoid 
all  superfluity  of  expression  and  has  given  in  the 
simplest  words  at  his  command  the  thoughts  that  have 
come  in  those  quiet  moments  with  Hank.  With  no 
thought  of  creating  a  sensation,  and  no  desire  to  ad- 
vance some  fine  theory,  but  just  to  get  close  to  your 
heart,  and,  as  brother  to  brother,  reason  with  you 
about  those  little  things  that  cling  to  us  and  cause  us 
pain  and  sometimes  joy. 

fl  I  introduce  to  you  my  closest  friend,  to  whom  the 
book  is  dedicated.  A  quaint  character  is  he;  so  sober 
and  subdued,  and  yet  as  real  to  me  as  the  physical 
presence  of  any  reader  of  these  lines.  He  lives  as  you 
and  I  live;  feeling  with  us  the  oozing  of  life's  wine, 
and  noting  the  falling  of  life's  leaves  from  the  tree  we 
call  Ourselves.  And  yet,  never  a  frown  upon  his  brow, 
nor  a  ruffle  in  his  spirits.  To  my  friend,  Hank  Reklaw, 
I  introduce  you.  And  Hank  is  as  much  your  friend  as 
mine;  he  lives  his  life  as  near  you  as  to  me.  He  is 
that  Other  Self. 

No  incident  in  my  life  is  too  insignificant  for  him  to 
note;  no  sorrow  comes  that  he  is  not  present  to  give 
comfort,  and  no  joy  that  he  does  not  share.  To  him 
this  work  is  dedicated,  because  it  is  his  by  right  of 
authorship,  ff  I  give  back  to  him  his  own. 
What  inspiration  you  draw  from  it,  if  any,  credit  to 

8 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

his  account.  And  if,  perchance,  expression  is  given  to 
thoughts  that  conflict  with  those  of  every-day,  draw 
your  chair  closer  to  his,  and  reason  it  out  with  him. 
Speaking  from  personal  experience,  I  always  have 
found  Hank  a  reasonable  fellow.  He  will  give  way  to 
you  many  times,  just  to  tease.  Oft  in  my  life  he  has 
borne  me  "glad  tidings"  wrapped  closely  in  deep  folds 
of  crepe,  and  much  agony  has  been  mine  while  he 
calmly  stood  without,  thumping  heavily  at  my  soul's 
door  with  an  idea  that  I  did  not  like. 
Hank  is  the  other  half  of  me,  as  he  is  the  other  half 
of  you.  I  know  him  well — so  well  that  he  can  say 
many  things  to  me  I  would  not  bear  from  another. 
Sometimes  he  speaks  to  me — I  know  not  why — and 
were  it  not  for  the  love  I  know  he  has  for  me,  the 
sting  of  his  words  would  break  the  heart.  He  speaks 
on,  and  all  the  while  my  soul  is  resentful;  but  as  he 
reasons  to  me  of  Life  and  Light  and  Love,  and  carries 
me  away  in  the  silent  hours  of  my  life's  night,  I  feel 
the  very  impulses  that  you  feel;  my  thoughts  become 
your  thoughts,  my  love  your  love.  We  are  One  in  all 
but  the  temple  of  flesh  with  which  the  soul  is  clothed, 
and  behind  which  we  hide  that  Other  Self. 
And  so,  in  drawing  close  to  Hank's  heart,  I  draw  close 
to  yours.  Arm-in-arm  we  see  things  together,  if  not 
alike.  There  is  but  one  Real  Self.  To  me  that  Real 
Self  is  Hank  Reklaw.  You  may  know  him  by  an- 
other name,  but  his  thoughts  will  be  the  same,  for  he 
is  the  same.  This  temporal  body  of  flesh  and  blood 
and  bone  and  tissue  may  be  scattered  to  the  winds 
like  the  bursting  of  a  soap  bubble,  but  Hank  shall  live 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

on  because  he  is  the  Real.    In  him  is  the  essence  of 

Truth.     We  are  but  pigmies  in  his  hands — shadows 

of  the  Real. 

When  he  talks  to  me  he  tells  me  what  the  world  has 

ever  known — what  you  know — what  others  know.  His 

character  is  more  real  than  the  transitory  person  the 

world  knows  as  you  and  I — here  today,  gone  tomorrow 

— but  that  Other  Self — the  One  Real  Self  of  all,  of 

which  we  reflect  only  a  part — lives  on  and  on,  and 

shall  ever  live. 

To  that  Other  Self  of  You,  I  dedicate  this  book. 

H.  M.  W. 
Los  Angeles,  Cal.,  April  22,  1906. 


I  BELIEVE  that  All  came  from  God,  All  is  God, 
and  All  will  return  to  God.  What  our  position 
is  before  death,  it  will  be  after  death.  If  we  are  given 
over  to  greed,  avarice  and  hatred  in  this  city,  our 
companions  will  be  companions  of  greed,  avarice  and 
hatred  in  that  city.  We  get  what  we  give  here,  and 
we  will  get  what  we  give  there.  Hate,  and  hate  will 
return  to  you;  love,  and  love  will  come  back  to  you; 
trust  others,  and  others  will  trust  you;  mistrust 
others,  and  you  will  be  mistrusted;  see  none  of  God 
in  your  fellow  men,  and  your  fellow  men  will  see  none 
of  God  in  you. 

10 


SOUL  STARVATION 

"Walk  while  ye  have  the  light,  lest  dark- 
ness  come  upon  you." 


T  was  in  the  early  morning;  the  sun 
was  just  climbing  the  eastern  hills 
and  its  bright,  warm  rays  shot  over 
the  rugged  mountain  peaks  down 
into  the  valley.  Out  in  the  meadow 
the  birds  sang  their  morning  praise, 
anthem-wise;  the  dew  sparkled  on 
the  green  leaves,  and  all  was  happi- 
ness in  Nature's  home. 
As  I  sat  dreaming,  a  man  came 
along  the  road  and  sat  in  the  shade 
near  me.  He  was  an  old  man — sore 
tried.  He  did  not  hear  the  singing 
birds,  because  he  did  not  have  them 
in  his  heart ;  did  not  feel  the  warmth 
of  the  sunshine,  although  he  was 
hot;  did  not  see  the  sparkling  dew- 
drop,  the  azure  sky,  the  green 
meadows,  nor  the  grand,  rugged 
hills  standing,  sentinel-like,  over  all. 
He  only  saw  what  was  reflected 
from  within  his  own  sore  heart,  and 
as  he  looked  he  lamented,  fl  Life  to 
him  was  incessant  hardship.  He  had 
toiled  as  few  men  had  ever  toiled; 
he  had  saved,  and  skimped  and 
squeezed,  and  by  this  means  had 
amassed  a  fortune.  He  no  longer 
ii 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

had  to  watch  the  pennies — he  did  not  want  to  see 
them,  fl  He  wanted  wealth  in  his  earlier  days.  Now 
he  had  it.  fl  But  there  was  something  he  did  not  have, 
which  he  would  give  the  world  to  possess.  He  could 
not  give  expression  to  his  soul.  It  had  shrivelled  up. 
fl  The  saucy  birds  could  sing — they  were  happy — 
while  he,  with  wealth  untold,  was  miserable.  So  bent 
on  getting  riches  he  had  been  that  he  did  not  take 
time  to  develop  the  ability  to  be  happy.  Now,  with 
all  his  wealth  he  could  not  buy  it.  He  had  wealth 
without  the  capacity  to  enjoy  it.  He  tried  to  have  a 
good  time,  but  he  did  not  know  how.  He  spent  his 
money  upon  himself.  He  did  not  know  another  on 
whom  to  lavish  it.  He  did  not  love  and  could  not  serve. 
fl  You  see,  dear  heart,  the  happiness  that  lasts — the  joy 
that  stays  with  you — is  not  for  sale;  nor  can  it  be 
acquired  in  an  atmosphere  of  luxury  and  plenty.  The 
old  man  could  buy  temporal  comforts  and  indul- 
gences, but  content  and  peace  could  not  be  purchased. 
|f  With  wealth,  as  with  poverty,  there  must  come  wis- 
dom, else  there  can  be  no  happiness.  And  Wisdom 
had  not  come  to  the  old  man  because  he  had  not 
sought  her.  Satisfied  with  wealth,  he  got  no  more. 
Now  he  searched  the  wide  world  for  a  touch  from  the 
hand  of  Love,  fl  He  turned  away,  and  as  he  plodded 
on,  I  heard  him  say :  "Not  here,  not  here." 


HELL!   I  don't  want  to  be  "educated."    Just  a 
friend  or  two  who  will  love  me  for  what  I  am. 


12 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


FOLLOWING  NATURE'S  LEAD 

"I  had  rather  be  a  kitten,  and  cry  mew, 
Than  one  of  these  same  meter  ballad-mongers." — Shakespeare. 

NATURE  always  follows  the  line  of  least  resist- 
ance. Herein  lies  the  secret  of  all  success.  The 
man  who  wants  to  succeed  in  any  calling  of  life  would 
be  very  foolish  if  he  made  himself  obnoxious  to  all  he 
came  in  contact  with.  He  would  meet  with  resist- 
ance at  once,  and  in  doing  so  would  challenge  Nature 
to  enter  the  arena  against  him.  And  when  a  man 
does  that,  he  may  as  well  give  up,  for  Nature  will  not 
be  antagonized :  and  she  never  loses  a  contest.  Get  on 
the  side  of  Nature  and  more  than  half  the  fight  is  won. 
Study  with  what  ease  she  does  things.  How  care- 
fully it  all  is  planned,  and  how  quietly  and  surely 
every  plan  is  carried  out. 

When  a  person  desires  to  overcome  some  evil  habit,  or 
to  get  away  from  a  debilitating  influence,  if  he  is  wise, 
he  will  not  place  himself  where  the  temptation  will  get 
hold  of  him.  He  will  adopt  the  rational  way,  and 
withdraw  to  a  place  where  temptation  is  less  power- 
ful. He  will  seek  the  line  of  least  resistance.  Or  he 
will  overcome  temptation  by  giving  way  to  it. 
In  seeking  the  best  for  himself  and  other,  the  wise 
man  will  do  as  Nature  does.  He  will  not  strive 
where  the  point  of  resistance  is  greatest,  but  will  find 
the  weaker  point  and  camp  there.  If  he  be  weak, 
he  will  again  follow  the  example  of  Nature,  and 

13 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

let  the  good  things  come  to  him,  instead  of  sacrificing 
his  life  by  striving  against  the  more  powerful  elements 
for  them. 

If  a  man  desires  the  greatest  success,  he  will  not  seek 
the  companionship  of  the  unsuccessful,  but  will  get  in 
touch  with  the  successful.  In  so  doing,  he  will  work 
in  harmony  with  Nature,  and  thereby  find  what  he 
most  needs. 

It  used  to  be  the  popular  belief  that  "competition  is 
the  life  of  trade,"  and  every  man  thought  his  only 
chance  of  success  rested  in  his  ability  to  cope  with  and 
overcome  his  neighbor.  If  We  are  just  closing  a  very 
competitive  period  in  the  world's  history — perhaps  the 
greatest  known.  "As  individuals  we  stand,  united  we 
fall,"  has  been  the  watchword.  But  a  period  of  greater 
success  is  dawning — the  period  of  co-operation.  The 
great  trusts  have  shown  what  can  be  done  in  the  com- 
mercial world.  fl  Greater  things  are  yet  to  be  de- 
veloped in  the  social  world. 

The  power  of  thought  is  so  mighty  when  properly 
understood  and  applied,  that  men  are  uniting  as  never 
before  in  a  fraternal  way  in  their  efforts  to  better  their 
own  condition  and  the  condition  of  humanity,  fl  Long, 
long  ago,  when  the  Man  of  Nazareth  attempted  to 
point  the  Jewish  church  away  from  its  attitude 
of  holiness  to  one  of  Simple  Truth  and  Brotherly 
Love,  it  turned  upon  him  and  he  was  crucified  for  his 
pains.  Since  those  days  the  church  has  changed  some 
for  the  better,  because  the  people  have  grown  more 
enlightened,  but  even  yet,  it  is  far  away  from  the 
Simple  Life.  And  while  it  remains  away  the  demand 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

for  co-operation  among  men  will  continue  to  grow,  and 
there  will  be  the  harmonizing  of  thought  and  action 
for  man's  soul  betterment  outside  of  what  we  know  as 
religious  lines.  Men  will  draw  closer  together,  and 
will  work  out  their  own  salvation  and  the  salvation 
of  the  world,  in  a  natural  way. 

The  church  has  failed  to  accomplish  its  prime  object 
because  it  would  approach  man  at  the  point  of  great- 
est resistance.  The  man  Jesus  pointed  out  this  de- 
fect, and  was  accusedof  eating  with  publicans  and  sin- 
ners; breaking  the  laws  of  the  Sabbath;  blasphemy, 
and  all  manner  of  heresy.  But,  what  Christ  attempted 
to  show  the  church  was  this :  that  there  is  a  better  way 
to  approach  a  man  than  to  say  to  him :  "Here,  sir,  you 
are  damned :  if  you  would  be  saved,  you  must  believe 
so-and-so."  He  saw  the  man  from  within  and  knew  he 
was  not  so  black  as  orthodoxy  painted  him,  and  he 
went  to  that  man  on  the  common  footing  of  Brotherly 
Love  and  showed  him  wherein  custom  and  vice  had 
led  him  wrong.  That  was  a  long  time  ago,  but  it  was 
only  yesterday  that  man  realized  the  purpose  of  his 
mission. 

Our  fraternal  societies  and  our  Success  clubs  are  doing 
their  work  in  a  similar  way.  They  teach  men  co- 
operation in  thought  and  action,  and  point  them  to 
the  highest  ideals  of  Harmony  and  Health,  Happi- 
ness and  Love. 

"Divided  we  stand ;  united  we  fall"  was  the  old  motto. 
"United  we  stand;  divided  we  fall"  is  the  new.  And 
so  says  Nature. 


SOUL,  UNFOLDMENT 

"Man  makes  a  death,  which  Nature  never 
made." — Edward   Young. 


HAT  is  there  back  of  this  physical 
death  that  causes  men  to  so  fear  it? 
Death,  when  understood,  is  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  universe — quite 
as  natural  as  life  itself,  and  as  nec- 
essary, if  there  is  to  be  growth.  In 
our  present  state  of  mind  and  body, 
the  soul  is  so  bound  to  a  narrow, 
misshapen  life  that,  at  best,  it  can- 
not reach  far  beyond  the  confines  of 
Avarice,  against  the  walls  of  which 
it  beats  its  wings  like  an  imprisoned 
eagle,  which,  looking  high  unto  the 
scraggy  peaks,  longs  to  soar  above 
them,  amid  the  clouds. 
Some  day,  when  the  sting  of  Death 
is  drawn,  and  all  religious  societies 
become  more  concerned  about  the 
now  than  the  afterwhile,  the  world 
will  forget  all  about  what  might  be 
on  the  other  side,  and  when  the  time 
comes  for  man  to  make  the  dip  into 
the  unknown,  he  will  think  as  little 
about  it  as  he  does  of  changing  his 
clothing.  And  what  is  now  an  oc- 
casion for  weeping,  will  have  been 
changed  into  one  of  laughing.  As 
Omar  puts  it: 
16 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Why,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside 
And,  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride; 

Were  it  not  a  shame — were  it  not  a  shame  for  him 
In  this  clay  carcase  crippled  to  abide? 

Where  does  man  get  his  present  conception  of  Death? 
It  is  so  hateful,  and  so  unworthy  the  highest  type  of 
animal!  The  fowls  of  the  air;  the  beasts  of  the  field 
and  those  inhabiting  the  ocean  deep,  have  no  such 
fear  of  Nature's  most  necessary  function.  Only  man 
fears  it,  and  he  does  not  fear  the  thing  itself  so  much 
as  what  he  has  taught  himself  to  believe  shall  be  his 
experience  after  death.  Conscious  of  a  life  beyond 
the  tomb— knowing  that  Death  does  not  end  all — 
he  feels  his  own  unfitness  for  the  place  or  condition 
which  centuries  of  false  teaching  has  shapened  in  his 
imagination,  fl  He  has  trained  his  mind  to  look  upon 
heaven  and  hell  as  an  after  state,  neither  of  which  he 
is  quite  sure  of.  He  has  built  Heaven  so  high  that, 
knowing  his  own  failings  and  weaknesses,  and  con- 
scious of  his  breaches  of  the  moral  laws  with  which 
tradition  has  surrounded  him,  he  fears  to  meet  the 
God  he  has  made  for  himself,  in  his  own  image,  and 
draws  away  from  the  unknowable  in  fear  and  trem- 
bling. 

All  this  is  natural  enough  for  man,  since  from  the  be- 
ginning he  has  been  taught  that  he  was  born  fore- 
ordained to  be  damned,  but  it  is  not  the  mental  con- 
dition of  Nature. 

Before  man  had  any  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  he 
was  as  indifferent  to  his  future  state  as  any  other  ani- 
mal, and  therefore  was  not  pestered  with  any  ques- 
tion about  the  whence  and  whither  and  why  of  it  all. 
But  as  soon  as  he  partook  of  the  fruit  that  made  him 

17 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

like  the  Being  in  whose  image  he  was  made,  he  felt 
his  unworthiness  and  tried  to  hide  himself.  He  has 
been  doing  so  ever  since. 

The  "lower  animal" — the  dog,  for  instance — does  not 
have  any  fear  of  death,  because  he  has  no  knowledge 
of  right  and  wrong.  To  him  death  means — we  do  not 
know.  But  how  much  better  for  him  that  he  has  not 
set  laws  for  himself, — or  allowed  other  dogs  to  do  it, — 
that  are  unnatural  for  him  to  follow.  The  dog  lives 
his  life  as  a  dog  of  his  breed  should,  and  when  death 
comes  he  takes  it  as  naturally  as  he  would  a  bone 
from  his  master's  hand. 

I  do  not  know.  Man  may  have  a  higher  nature  than 
the  dog.  But,  if  he  has,  why  does  he  live  his  life  so 
unnaturally  that  he  is  ever  on  bad  terms  with  Nature, 
and  unworthy  of  the  best  the  Universe  has  to  bestow 
on  him?  Why  wasn't  he  endowed  with  qualities  that 
would  enable  him  to  live  his  life  as  true  to  Nature  as 
the  dog,  or  the  cat,  or  the  bird,  or  the  beast,  or  the 
plant  lives  his?  Is  it  possible  that  the  highest  Ex- 
pression of  Nature  in  animal  form  is  more  imperfect 
than  the  lowest  Expression  of  Nature?  Is  it  possible? 
Or  is  it  just  man's  misconception  of  things  ?  Is  it  not 
just  possible  that  man,  in  his  hankering  after  knowl- 
edge, has  sought  to  build  about  himself  restraints  that 
Nature  and  Nature's  God  never  intended  him  to  have? 
And  isn't  it  just  possible,  too,  that,  should  these  re- 
straints be  torn  away  and  cast  aside,  and  man  return 
to  the  natural  God-animal  that  he  is,  there  would  be  no 
thought  of  right  and  wrong,  but  all  his  actions  and 

18 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

thoughts  would  be  in  absolute  harmony  with  Nature, 
and  therefore  with  the  Being  we  call  God? 
Why  expect  more  of  man  than  he  is  capable  of  ren- 
dering? Does  it  seem  reasonable  for  an  All- Wise 
Being  to  make  something  after  his  own  image  and 
not  endow  it  with  sense  enough  to  know  what  it  ought 
to  do?  To  say  it  were  so,  is  to  deny  the  wisdom  of 
the  Master.  And  to  go  still  farther  and  declare  that 
after  the  All  Wise  created  the  man  after  His  Own 
Image,  and,  knowing  him  to  be  without  knowledge 
and  reason,  He  left  him  at  the  mercy  of  the  evil  one, 
and,  then,  because  the  man  gave  way  to  the  wiles  of 
the  evil  one,  to  say  that  God  turned  upon  him  and 
damned  him,  and  all  that  came  after  him,  is  the  most 
unreasonable  proposition  human  or  divine  mind  could 
imagine. 

No  human  father  could  conceive  such  a  diabolical 
plan.  When  a  son  is  born  endowed  with  the  parents' 
evil  propensities  and  passions,  this  fact  is  taken  in 
palliation  of  any  offense  he  might  commit.  Cruel — 
cruel,  indeed — would  be  that  father  who  would  damn 
the  son  or  daughter  of  his  loins  for  expressing  the 
natural  bent  of  his  or  her  Nature  Self,  fl  And  to  allow 
ourselves  to  be  carried  away  by  the  mythical  belief 
that  God— All  Wise— All  Powerful— All  Loving— did 
make  man  in  His  own  image  and  bestow  upon  him 
all  knowledge  but  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  and 
then  did  set  before  him  the  tree  of  knowledge  and 
demand  him  to  restrain  from  eating  of  its  fruit  on  the 
penalty  of  knowing  right  from  wrong — to  believe  that 
God  did  this,  I  say,  and,  too,  before  the  man  Adam 

19 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

knew  right  from  wrong,  is  the  most  preposterous 
proposition  with  which  the  human  mind  ever  had  to 
deal.  It  is  inconceivable  how  a  Being  All  Wise  could 
expect  a  being  without  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong 
to  follow  the  dictates  of  any  other  passion  than  that 
of  Desire.  And  it  is  hideous  to  teach  that  this  All- 
Wise  Being  did  damn  the  Being  who  knew  not  what 
was  wrong  until  he  had  committed  it;  and  not  only 
this  being,  Adam,  but  all  beings  made  like  him  from 
the  dawn  of  creation  until  its  night. 
The  teaching,  I  say,  is  hideous.  And  yet,  upon  this 
teaching  hinges  the  truth  or  falsity  of  Society's  posi- 
tion with  regard  to  man's  destiny. 
If  It  is  not  the  writer's  desire  to  bring  into  question 
beliefs  that  have  stood  for  so  much  that  has  been  dear 
to  the  heart  of  humanity  all  the  ages  that  are  past, 
but  he  feels  that  all  of  man's  fear  of  death  is  based 
upon  this  remarkable  story  of  man's  downfall,  and 
back  of  it,  and  in  it,  and  from  it,  springs  the  great 
cause  of  man's  inhuman  treatment  of  the  spirit  within 
him  called  God,  and  his  unnatural  expression  of  Life 
as  it  flows  through  him. 

Take  away  this  abominable,  unnatural,  inhuman  be- 
lief about  God  and  man  and  the  devil,  and  the  relation 
of  these  three  in  the  crime  of  man's  downfall,  and  you 
take  away  all  fear,  and  place  an  entirely  different  com- 
plexion on  man,  his  privileges  and  his  responsibilities. 
Instead  of  making  him  a  cringing  criminal  unworthy 
the  love  of  his  God,  you  make  him  a  creation  of  the 
Power  Divine,  made  in  God's  image,  and  placed  on 
earth  as  His  representative,  fit  to  do  His  will  and 

20 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

made  for  that  purpose.  You  make  him  feel,  not  only 
his  privilege,  but  also  his  responsibility,  and  he  will 
not  think  of  doing  what  is  contrary  to  the  will  of  Na- 
ture and  Nature's  God.  On  the  other  hand ;  teach  him 
that  he  is  here,  conceived  in  sin,  damned  before  he 
knows  what  life  is,  and  impress  upon  him — day  after 
day,  week  after  week,  year  after  year,  century  upon 
century,~that  he  is  a  weakling — prone  to  do  evil — sin- 
ful and  mean;  that  all  his  fathers  before  him  were  no 
better  than  he — all  damned  before  birth, — and  what 
kind  of  manhood  flowers? 

"But,"  I  hear  you  say,  "you  take  out  of  life  God's 
plan  of  salvation.  You  would  do  away  with  the  need 
of  a  Savior."  Well,  what  of  it?  But  I  do  not.  I 
would  acknowledge,  if  you  please,  the  supremacy  of 
Christ  as  the  Son  of  God.  I  believe  He  is.  And  as  a 
Savior?  Yes.  The  life  He  spent  upon  earth,  judging 
from  what  we  know  of  it,  made  Him  a  Savior — just  as 
the  life  of  any  man  who  lives  so  Nature  can  speak  and 
act  through  him  makes  him  a  savior  to  others. 
When  we  forget  that  we  are  we,  and  feel  that  the  I, — 
the  ego, — the  It-All  of  the  universe  (call  it  God,  Na- 
ture, Spirit,  what  you  will),  when  we  feel  that  It  is 
ourselves,  and  that  this  body — this  thing  we  call  man — 
is  only  the  instrument  through  which  Life  flows — then 
do  we  realize  what  was  meant  by  Christ's  words :  "My 
Father  and  I  are  one — He  in  me — I  in  you." 
f["But  man  is  a  free  agent,"  you  say.  Yes,  he  is.  Free 
to  accept  defeat  and  condemnation  by  closing  his  life 
to  the  inflow  and  outflow  of  humanity's  love,  thus  re- 
tarding the  natural  unfoldment  of  Nature  through 

21 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

him ;  or  free  to  accept  all,  and  allow  himself  to  be  made 
a  motor  through  which  life  is  generated  and  made  to 
serve  the  It-All  of  the  universe,  which  ever  is  striving 
for  more  perfect  expression,  whether  through  man  or 
beast,  fowl,  fish  or  plant  life. 

fl  My  God  is  a  Being  of  Truth  and  Love.  He  is  Truth 
and  Love.  My  God  is  not  a  Being  of  jealousy  and 
revenge.  I  grow  into  my  God,  as  I  allow  Nature  ex- 
pression through  me ;  I  do  not  grow  from  him.  To  be 
like  my  God,  I  am  my  God:  i.  e.,  my  God  is  in  me. 
And  when  my  God  is  in  me,  I  will  not  dishonor  him 
by  whining  about  my  weaknesses. 
ft  My  mind  recalls  the  impressions  I  had,  when,  a 
straight-haired  lad  of  seven  years,  I  sat  by  mother's 
side  in  the  old  home  church,  and,  parrot-like,  repeated 
the  service  of  an  established  religious  society.  Sun- 
day after  Sunday,  I  watched  others  come  and  go,  and 
heard  them  recite  by  rote  as  I  did,  the  stereotyped  ex- 
pressions, "have  mercy  upon  us,  miserable  sinners," 
"spare  us,  Good  Lord,"  "Good  Lord,  deliver  us,"  etc., 
and  my  boy's  heart  recoiled  at  the  thought  that  God 
was  such  a  Being  as  would  delight  to  have  his  chil- 
dren come  before  him  with  such  a  shameful  wail  upon 
their  lips.  I  knew  many  kind  and  loving  people  in 
those  congregations,  and  I  did  not  believe  they  were 
poor  miserable  sinners.  In  fact,  I  knew  they  were 
not.  And  the  logic  of  my  boyish  mind  would  not  per- 
mit me  to  think  that  they  themselves  believed  they 
were  so  bad  as  their  wail  of  woe  made  it  appear. 
I  did  not  know  then  the  names  of  the  men  who  pre- 
pared that  bemeaning  service  of  supplication.  Nor  do 

22 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

I  care  now.  This  is  the  truth  that  came  to  me  then, 
and  has  grown  upon  me  since:  No  man  or  body  of 
men  can  frame  words  for  me  that  will  express  my  love 
for  the  God  of  Nature;  and  no  man  or  body  of  men 
can  prepare  a  prayer  that  will  tell  my  heart's  wish  for 
my  fellows  or  express  my  heart's  praise  of  its  fulness 
of  the  Divine  in  all.  Nor  could  any  man,  or  body  of 
men,  prepare  a  stock  letter  that  would  convey  to  God 
my  confession  of  sin — if  such  were  necessary. 
fl  I  cannot  imagine  a  Supreme  Being  so  hideous  as  to 
take  pleasure  out  of  having  me  run  to  Him  every  Sun- 
day and  mumble  in  his  ear  a  stereotyped  indictment 
against  myself,  written  by  men,  perhaps  two  or  three 
hundred  years  before  I  was  born.  One  tiny  thought 
of  love  from  my  heart  to  His  is  worth  all  the  buzzy- 
wuzzy  prayers,  sung  do-see-do,  that  ever  clogged  the 
flow  of  Nature's  love  and  repressed  the  expression  of 
the  Divine  in  me. 

The  writer  is  quite  sure  that  Man's  Divinity  should 
make  more  of  him  than  a  talking  machine,  fl  I  was 
reading  the  other  day  the  story  of  a  young,  sweet 
singer,  who  sang  into  a  phonograph,  and  a  few  weeks 
later  sickness  robbed  Life  of  a  vessel  of  expression 
through  her  here.  At  the  grave,  while  her  body  was 
being  lowered  into  the  earth,  her  voice  was  heard  from 
the  talking  machine  singing,  "Nearer,  My  God,  to 
Thee."  And  I  thought  it  was  all  very  nice,  fl  There 
is  something  Divine  in  the  work  of  men  and  women 
who  find  themselves  before  death  robs  Nature  of  ex- 
pression through  them  here.  For  then  they  leave  the 
world  something  it  did  not  have  before — their  indi- 

23 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

viduality.  Ofttimes,  centuries  after  their  bodies  are 
broken  and  their  faces  forgotten,  the  world  listens  to 
words  expressing  that  individuality,  though  it  refused 
to  hear  them  when  Life  animated  the  mortal  machine. 
To  find  himself,  man  must  search.  He  must  refuse 
to  be  content  to  accept  what  is.  fl  The  thought  that 
wiggled  its  way  into  me  and  became  part  of  my  life 
when  a  boy,  as  I  heard  the  same  cry  of  guilt  and 
shame  repeated  week  after  week,  was  this:  If  so 
much  has  been  done  that  ought  not  to  have  been  done, 
and  so  much  left  undone  that  ought  to  have  been  done, 
why  don't  you  good  people  do  what  you  ought  to  do, 
and  leave  undone  what  you  ought  not  do?  My  in- 
quiries then  and  since  have  elicited  no  answer. 
I  know  a  lot  of  good  people  who  still  continue  to  say 
what  they  used  to  say  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  yet  I  am 
sure  they  do  not  believe  what  they  have  been  telling 
God  all  these  years ;  and  if  anybody  else  were  to  say  of 
them  what  they  have  said  of  themselves  they  would 
complain  mightily — and  I  would  not  blame  them. 
All  this  is  written  in  simple  love,  and  with  no  desire 
to  cast  a  ray  of  doubt  or  cynicism  upon  the  estab- 
lished order  of  things.  However,  men  will  think. 
And  if  we  take  down  the  bars  and  let  the  light  into 
the  mind,  Nature  shows  us  many  things  we  did  not 
know  before.  It  is  a  psychological  fact,  that  man  will 
be  what  he  thinks  he  is.  Let  him  repeat  the  thought 
as  the  days  go  by  that  he  is  miserable,  sinful  and 
worthy  only  to  be  damned,  and  he  will  be  damned,  be- 
cause he  ought  to  be.  As  one  has  expressed  it :  "He 
will  be  hypnotized  by  his  own  thoughts,"  and  what, 

24 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

by  repeated  suggestion,  he  has  been  taught  to  think 
he  is,  he  will  be.  A  deadening  of  soul  growth  will  be 
the  result,  ft  And  while  we  are  speaking  on  the  ques- 
tion of  Soul  Growth,  let  me  say  what  you  already 
know. 

|f  "Soul  Growth'*  is  generally  understood  to  mean 
something  apart  from  man's  daily  routine.  It  has  a 
churchy  sound,  and  man  associates  it  somewhat  un- 
consciously with  his  Sunday-go-to-meetin'  clothes. 
Never  did  he  make  a  greater  mistake.  In  days  of  old, 
when  knights  were  bold — or  they  weren't — the  priests 
claimed  to  hold  the  fate  of  the  souls  of  men  in  their 
hands.  Some  believe  so  yet.  With  them  I  have  no 
quarrel.  If  an  individual  is  so  blind  to  his  privileges 
as  to  place  in  the  hands  of  another  the  care  of  his 
Soul  (Life)  it  is  for  him  to  obey  the  one  to  whom  he 
enslaves  himself. 

But  let  us  take  away  from  "Soul  Growth"  all  thought 
of  priest-craft,  churchism  and  sacrifice,  fl  Place  man  in 
the  light  of  what  he  is :  A  God  in  the  chrysalis.  "My 
Father  and  I  are  one:  He  in  me;  I  in  you."  There 
is  no  mistaking  the  meaning  of  these  words.  They 
are  simple  and  direct.  Where  in  them  do  we  find  the 
thought  of  the  priest  intruded?  If,  then,  man  is  God 
in  the  chrysalis,  there  must  be  an  unfoldment  of  the 
soul  if  there  is  to  be  Soul  Growth.  The  word  unfold- 
ment conveys  the  right  idea.  It  means  continuous 
action — perpetual  unfolding — a  gradual,  steady  un- 
doing. Like  the  rose  bud,  we  retain  Life  as  we  unfold 
it,  for  in  the  unfolding  we  express  the  Universal  Life 
that  flows  through  us.  If  the  bud  does  not  unfold  it 

25 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

never  becomes  the  rose,  and  all  of  Nature  (and  what 
is  Nature  is  God)  is  robbed  thereby  of  so  much  Life 
Expression,  fl  Man's  soul  is  like  the  rose.  Ordinarily 
it  buds.  But  how  often  it  dies  only  a  soulbud.  And 
because  it  is  only  a  soulbud,  Nature  is  deprived  of  so 
much  Life  Expression,  and  this  heaven  of  ours  is 
thereby  made  the  meaner. 

fl  The  Soul's  unfoldment  comes  as  all  things  of  Nature 
come.  Man  is  a  reasoning  being,  and  must  unfold  in 
a  reasonable  way.  First,  then,  he  must  recognize  that 
he  is  a  Soul — that  through  him  Nature  is  expressing 
herself  in  a  different  way  than  she  ever  expressed  her- 
self before,  or  can  express  herself  through  another, 
and  yet  in  a  perfectly  natural  way.  To  do  this  she 
must  not  be  hampered  by  man  in  his  false  notions 
about  Goodness.  Custom  and  the  priest  have  com- 
bined to  so  mystify  man  about  his  moral  downfall  that 
his  whole  life  is  spent  in  whining  about  his  unworthi- 
ness.  As  a  result  he  does  not  unfold.  He  never  gets 
beyond  a  soulbud  condition.  Let  him  live  the  Life 
of  Love,  day  by  day,  and  Nature  will  not  ask  more. 
Soul  unfoldment  will  come  as  naturally  as  the  sunshine 
makes  the  rosebud  unfold  into  the  rose. 
Perhaps  I  am  wrong.  But  may  not  we  treat  our  souls 
with  the  same  consideration  that  we  do  our  stomachs, 
for  after  all  is  said,  one  is  not  far  separated  from  the 
other.  Feed  the  stomach  the  proper  nourishment; 
give  it  work,  and  rest,  and  quiet,  when  it  needs  it,  and 
it  never  will  cause  any  uneasiness.  You  will  not 
know  you  have  a  stomach  but  for  the  pleasure  it 
brings  you. 

26 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

fl  The  rose  does  not  stop  to  question  the  fragrance  of 
its  perfume.  Neither  does  the  skunk  cabbage.  Each 
seeks  to  express  Nature — one  as  faithfully  as  the 
other. 

J[  When  we  speak  about  Soul  Growth  the  listener  or 
reader  usually  falls  at  once  into  the  mistake  of  be- 
lieving that  it  has  reference  to  the  individual's  welfare 
in  the  after  life.  Soul  Growth  to  the  writer  means 
much  more  than  this.  While  it  does  have  bearing 
upon  the  individual's  future  state  as  well  as  his  pres- 
ent, its  chief  bearing  is  upon  what  we  know  as  Life, 
whether  here  or  there.  And  by  Life,  I  mean  Uni- 
versal Life — not  Individual  Life.  There  is  that  long- 
ing in  you  and  me  which  prompts  us  to  do  and  dare 
things  that  bring  us  much  unpleasantness,  and  some- 
times remorse.  We  do  not  know  why  we  do  it,  and 
while  we  labor  under  the  load  of  remorse  we  fain 
would  retrace  our  steps  if  it  were  possible.  But  slowly 
the  remorse  wears  off,  and  we  find  as  we  emerge  from 
the  shadow  that  Life  is  more  abundantly  ours  than 
before  we  passed  into  the  shadow,  fl  We  developed  in 
the  shadow  what  we  could  not  have  developed  in  the 
bright  sunshine,  and  we  find  that  Nature  flows  into  uS 
and  through  us  more  freely  now  than  before,  fl  For 
days  and  perhaps  weeks  after  one  of  these  shadow 
spells,  we  feel  free  as  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  can 
see  how  good  life  is.  We  see  back  of  the  cloud — 
back  of  the  action  that  brought  remorse — back — back 
of  the  thing  that  brought  us  happiness  before,  and  it 
seems  so  commonplace — so  insignificant — that  we 
wonder  we  ever  could  have  taken  pleasure  out  of  it. 

27 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Not  until  then  do  we  realize  that  we  have  grown — 
not  till  then  do  we  see  how  necessary  the  cloud  was. 
Thus  we  learn  by  easy  stages  that  this  Individual  Life 
is  only  an  atom  in  the  Universal  Life,  and  that  as  we 
pass  through  experience  after  experience  we  grow  into 
a  being  which  becomes  ever  more  capable  of  giving 
expression  to  the  Life  that  Is — the  Life  Universal. 
Could  man  realize  more  perfectly  the  limitlessness  01 
Life,  and  feel  the  indestructibility  of  it — could  he  feel 
the  immensity  of  his  capacity  to  give  expression  to  it, 
— if  he  could  but  live  above  his  conception  of  the  Indi- 
vidual Life — then  the  beauty  of  it  all,  and  the  gran- 
deur, would  blind  him  to  the  incongruities  of  what  we 
are  taught  to  look  upon  as  human  existence. 
We  speak  of  Soul,  and  Life,  and  Spirit,  as  if  we  knew 
these  things  to  be  individual  Somethings  distinct  and 
apart  from  each  other — and  then  we  say  that  in  this 
body  of  matter  these  Somethings  dwell.  We  speak  of 
"the  Spirit  of  Man,"  "the  Soul  of  Man,"  "the  Life  of 
Man,"  as  if  we  believed  man  consisted  of  this  poor 
vessel  we  dress  up  and  give  a  distinguishing  name — 
as  if  man  were  something  superior  to  and  distinct 
from  all  other  forms  of  Life.  And  then,  as  a  natural 
sequence  we  indulge  the  thought  that  this  superior 
being  called  man  is  removed  from  any  accountability 
to  any  other  form  of  life.  He  can  kill  the  "lower  ani- 
mals" with  impunity,  destroy  at  pleasure,  and  is  ac- 
countable to  no  one  for  thus  expressing  the  brute  in 
him. 

This  is  the  natural  outcome  of  the  unnatural  concep- 
tion we  have  of  Life.     We  are  prone  to  individualize 

28 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

things.  We  speak  of  the  animal,  the  tree,  the  plant, 
the  bird,  man,  God,  devil,  priest,  saint  and  sinner,  as 
if  each  were  a  distinct  life  and  had  no  relation  to  the 
Life  that  Is — the  Universal  Life.  We  speak  of  Nature 
and  of  God — of  natural  things  and  spiritual  things — as 
if  the  Being  called  God  had  no  relation  to  Nature  and 
was,  in  fact,  opposed  to  it.  Thus  we  build  up  in  the 
Life  of  the  Universe, — of  which  the  life  of  man  is  only 
one  form  of  expression, — a  life  of  antagonism,  in  which 
we  teach  the  doctrine  of  "every  man  for  himself  and 
the  devil  take  the  hindmost." 

Such  a  teaching,  which  man  stubbornly  holds  to,  ap- 
peals to  the  negative  side  of  him.  He  is  taught  to  ex- 
press as  little  as  possible  of  Nature  Life,  and  so,  be- 
cause he  expresses  little — gives  little — he  gets  little — 
does  not  grow.  Growth — Soul  Growth,  like  all  other 
forms  of  growth,  is  experienced  by  man  just  in  propor- 
tion to  his  capacity  to  give  expression  to  Life  as  it 
comes  to  him. 

|f  If  we  cultivate  the  selfish  temperament  we  shall  not 
desire  to  give  any  more  of  Life  than  we  have  to ;  and 
Nature  will  not  thrust  upon  us  a  task  we  do  not  care 
to  do,  but  will  find  another  vessel  through  which  to 
give  Life. 

|f  All  men  have  a  desire  to  live  abundantly.  There  is 
a  sort  of  mechanical  existence  that  we  call  life,  which 
is  most  attractive  to  man,  but  which  is  so  artificial 
and  baubleized  that  Nature  finds  no  expression 
through  it.  In  such  a  life  we  find  no  Soul  Growth,  be- 
cause the  Soul  of  Nature  has  been  crowded  out. 
|f  Soul-Growth  is  man's  natural  unfoldment  into  God. 

29 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

When  we  can  go  into  the  forest  and  feel  the  warm 
heartbeat  of  the  It-All  in  the  trees  in  response  to  the 
heartbeats  of  the  It- All  in  us ;  when  we  can  commune 
with  the  It-All,  as  It  speaks  through  the  flower,  the 
bird,  the  beast,  the  rolling  heavens,  the  mourning  seas, 
the  pastoral  landscape,  the  scraggy  peaks  and  the  rum- 
ble of  the  city's  marts — when  we  can  feel  with  It,  and 
think  with  It,  and  know  that  we  are  part  of  It,  then 
we  know  the  possibilities  of  man  and  learn  what  Life 
is,  for  then  we  die  to  live — the  individual  man  is  lost 
in  the  Expression  of  the  Whole. 

We  are  man-shaped  atoms  through  which  the  Uni- 
verse works;  we  are  the  bowls  from  which  is  poured 
the  Spirit  of  the  Eternal  God. 


T^TEVER  try  to  stop  an  ambitious  man.  In  the  first 
f  ^1  place,  you  cannot  do  it;  that's  the  work  of  the 
Omnipotent.  In  the  second  place,  it  will  not  do  you 
nor  him  any  good  if  you  succeed.  Stop  him  today, 
and  tomorrow  he  will  break  out  in  a  new  place.  God 
bless  him;  that's  what  we  like  about  him.  He  never 
is  stilled.  Forge  ahead  he  will!  If  you  find  his  pace 
too  fast  for  you,  better  drop  out  than  be  a  drag.  Give 
him  rein.  If  he  is  right  he  will  succeed  whether  or 
no;  if  he  is  not  right,  the  quickest  way  to  stop  him  is 
to  let  him  stop  himself. 

30 


SIMPLICITY  OF  NATURE 

"We  are  all  children  of  the  kingdom  of 
God!  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we 
shall  be." — Hubbard. 


-it 


WARM  summer  wind  blows  toward 
me  over  the  sweet-smelling  clover 
field.  With  each  breath  I  see  visions 
of  childhood  days,  when  life  was 
all  so  happy  because  it  was  so  sim- 
ple. Yonder  in  the  corner  of  the  old 
rail  fence  I  see  frisky,  rollicking 
Maud,  and  around  her  Tommy,  Dick 
and  Harry;  Alice,  Annie  and  Kate. 
Their  sunburnt  faces  are  hid  in  the 
clover.  I  cannot  see  the  glow  of 
their  ruddy  cheeks,  but  their  child- 
like prattle  and  merry  laugh  tells 
me  so  many  things  about  Goodness 
that  I  did  not  know  before.  I  see 
the  tops  of  their  flaxen  heads  just 
even  with  the  red  clover  balls,  some 
of  them  sun-bonneted,  and  some 
glistening  golden  in  the  sunlight. 
Now  and  then  one  will  bob  up  and 
down,  so  joyous,  and  careless,  and 
gay.  How  indifferent  they  are  to 
life — so  happy  in  each  other's  love. 
They  are  healthy,  rollicking  boys 
and  girls;  full  of  what  Nature  put 
into  them — no  better,  no  worse 
than  any  other  children.  They  do 
not  know  they  have  a  stomach  until 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

they  abuse  it — do  not  know  what  Goodness  is  until 
they  misuse  it — content  and  happy — glad  to  be  just 
what  they  are  because  their  minds  have  not  been 
warped  into  believing  that  there  is  something  better 
for  them  in  the  meadow  beyond. 

Would  I  be  a  child  again?  No;  not  in  pinafore.  But 
this  I  would  be — now  and  always — a  child  in  spirit. 
I  know  we  are  not  any  older  than  we  feel.  I  would 
make  all  this  world  a  clover  field :  red-topped,  shower- 
bedewed,  and  kissed  by  the  glowing  sun.  In  my 
corner  of  it,  I  would  be  a  child  forever,  and  with  those 
I  love  about  me  I  would  be  what  God  by  nature  made 
me — no  better,  no  worse,  than  you,  my  brother.  And 
as  I  became  childlike  I  would  become  Christlike.  Not 
a  whining,  whimpering  baby  would  I  be,  continually 
bemoaning  my  sinfulness.  My  stomach  would  not 
ache  because  I  would  not  eat  green  apples.  My  soul 
would  not  cry  out  in  anguish,  because  it  would  not 
be  in  anguish.  I  would  be  a  child  in  spirit.  And,  do 
you  know,  sister;  children  do  not  know  what  a  pain  is 
if  they  are  healthy.  Neither  do  souls,  if  they  are  let 
alone,  and  are  healthy. 


SEEKING  THE  IMPOSSIBLE 

"I  have  thought  some  of  nature's  journeymen  had  made 
men,  and  not  made  them  well,  they  imitate  humanity  so 
abominably." — Hamlet, 

THE  old  man's  head  was  white  with  years,  and  he 
walked  with  feeble  and  uncertain  step,  leaning 
upon  a  stick.    The  granddaughter  was  just  closing 

32 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

her  teens  and  soon  would  step  off  into  the  twenties. 
She  was  graceful  as  a  fawn;  lithe  and  pretty.  They 
sauntered  along  the  path  crossing  the  meadow  where 
the  morning  sun  tips  the  green  and  makes  the  dew- 
drops  sparkle  like  jewels  upon  the  neck  of  a  Venus 
waiting  the  coming  of  Adonis. 

fl  "I  do  so  want  to  be  good,  Grandpa,"  she  said.  "But 
it  is  almost  impossible,  sometimes." 
jf  "Want  to  be  good,  did  you  say,  girlie?  Ah,  no; 
don't  'want  to  be  good/  Be  what  you  are, — that  is 
enough — just  what  you  are.  Everybody  'wants  to  be 
good/  The  mortal  does  not  live  who  has  not  felt  with 
you  that  unsatisfied  longing.  What  does  it  mean,  this 
desire  'to  be  good?'  Perhaps  the  working  of  the  Di- 
vine in  us;  perhaps  a  consciousness  that  we  are  not 
living  up  to  our  Ideal?  I  do  not  know.  Somebody 
has  said,  that  if  we  do  not  live  up  to  our  Ideal,  it  will 
come  down  to  us.  Haven't  you,  time  and  again,  felt 
a  Divine  impulse  to  go  forward  and  upward — to  grasp 
the  opportunity  that  would  lift  you  nearer  your  Ideal? 
And  you  failed — failed  because — because — oh,  dear! 
What  shall  I  say?  Then  will  come  that  longing  'to 
be  good.' 

"Listen,  daughter;  is  there  any  merit  in  such  a  long- 
ing when  we  know  it  is  the  result  of  our  own  lack  of 
will  to  do  the  thing?  Had  we  done  it,  the  longing 
would  not  be  in  the  heart,  but  we  would  feel  the  com- 
fort of  having  done  that  which  would  bring  us  nearer 
what  we  ought  to  be.  Having  failed,  we  try  to  patch 
things  up  with  ourselves — our  conscience — and  long 
'to  be  good.' 

33 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

"The  fact  is,  little  girl:  this  'be  good*  business  is 
worked  to  tatters.  There  isn't  anything  in  it.  It  is 
all  a  false  alarm,  arising  out  of  a  false  belief.  When 
we  do  our  duty,  we  do  not  think  of  'being  good/  We 
simply  are,  and  that  is  all  of  it." 

And  with  this  May  and  December  walked  hand  in 
hand  out  of  hearing. 


MOULTING  OUR  IDEAS 

"Slave  to  no  sect,  who  takes  no  private  road, 
But  looks  through  Nature  up  to  Nature's  God." — Pope, 

ALL  men  seek  to  know  the  Truth.  The  reason 
some  men  know  more  of  it  than  others  is  because 
they  are  prepared  to  step  farther  in  advance  of  "the 
accepted  order  of  things"  than  others.  They  seek 
diligently  for  it,  and  do  not  stop  even  when  they  run 
in  conflict  with  what  has  been  accepted  as  Truth  by 
their  fellows  for  years,  and,  perhaps,  ages  past. 
The  man  seeking  to  know  the  Truth  does  not  stop  to 
question  what  others  think  of  it  when  he  finds  it.  He 
accepts  it,  no  matter  where  he  finds  it,  and  however 
unorthodox  it  may  appear.  It  matters  little  to  him 
if  others  cannot  see  it  as  he  does.  He  knows  it  is 
Truth,  and  all  the  powers  that  be  cannot  turn  him 
from  it.  Men  may  laugh  and  quibble,  but  the  Truth- 
seeker  does  not  mind  them.  He  knows  intuitively 
what  is  sound  and  what  unsound,  and,  though  all  the 
known  world  may  flout  his  testimony,  he  holds  fast 
to  what  he  has  discovered,  knowing  some  day  others 

34 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

will  see  it.  The  men  who  have  done  most  to 
shake  the  world  have  been  men  who,  like  Pericles, 
Socrates,  Jesus,  Paul,  John,  Darwin  and  Hubbard, 
have  been  brave  enough  to  stem  the  current  of  popu- 
lar belief,  and  big  enough  to  state  the  Truth  as  they 
saw  it,  when  they  saw  it,  no  matter  if  it  required  that 
they  go  contrary  to  the  previous  belief  of  the  whole 
world,  themselves  included.  The  man  who  is  not 
prepared  to  relinquish  his  ideas  of  yesterday  for  newer 
ideas  today,  cannot  hope  to  make  head  in  the  way  of 
Truth.  "Consistency,"  said  Emerson,  "is  the  hobgob- 
lin of  little  minds,"  and  this  is  never  more  strikingly 
exemplified  than  in  the  matter  of  ideas.  The  small 
man  is  he  who  refuses  to  accept  new  ideas  because 
they  conflict  with  those  of  yesterday.  The  smallest 
man  is  he,  who,  refusing  to  accept  today's  ideas,  con- 
demns and  damns  the  man  who  does.  It  may  be  true, 
it  no  doubt  is,  that  the  man  who  refuses  to  accept 
today's  ideas  is  honest  in  his  effort  to  be  consistent. 
But  no  man  because  he  is  honest,  or  thinks  he  is,  can 
claim  the  right  to  bind  another  down  to  his  ideas  of 
Truth.  What  I  know  of  Truth  today  may  not  be — 
will  not  be — all  that  I  shall  know  of  Truth  tomorrow 
— if  I  am  advancing.  Each  day  I  must  become  better 
acquainted  with  Truth  than  I  was  the  day  before.  If 
I  do  not  my  ideas  will  become  stale,  and  bigotry,  like 
gangrene,  will  eat  into  my  soul. 

Over  in  Canada  they  have  a  colony  of  Dukhobors.  As 
members  of  society  they  are  a  quiet,  sober  and  hard- 
working people.  They  are  the  offshoot  of  a  Russian 
religious  sect  founded  in  Kharkov  about  1750-75.  Th« 

35 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

rapid  growth  of  the  sect  brought  upon  its  members 
governmental  persecution  as  early  as  1797  to  1800. 
Then  the  government  thought  better  of  the  Dukho- 
bortsi  and  settled  them  upon  a  tract  of  fertile  land  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  Molochnaya  in  Taurida.  Re- 
lieved from  official  annoyances  the  colony  soon  ex- 
perienced a  period  of  thrift  and  prosperity.  Then 
again,  about  1819,  the  government  resumed  hostile 
measures,  the  result  of  a  policy  of  the  church  to  bring 
all  religious  elements  of  the  Russian  empire  into  con- 
formity with  Greek  Catholicism.  So  severe  were  the 
measures,  and  so  cruel  the  treatment  of  these  honest 
people  by  the  Russian  church,  that  early  in  the  nine- 
ties, if  you  remember,  the  attention  of  the  outside 
world  was  attracted  to  them,  and  after  long  petition- 
ing many  thousands  were  allowed  to  leave  for  Cyprees 
and  Canada. 

The  religious  views  of  these  people  are  simple  in  the 
extreme,  and  are  handed  down  by  oral  tradition. 
Christ  was  only  a  man  of  superior  godlike  intellect, 
and  his  soul  has  migrated  into  many  mortals.  All  peo- 
ple are  equal,  and,  being  children  of  God,  do  what  is 
right;  hence  there  is  no  need  of  rulers.  They  do  not 
visit  churches,  considering  that  wherever  two  or  three 
persons  endowed  with  intellect,  even  if  Jews  or  Mo- 
hammedans, gather  for  worship,  there  is  a  church. 
They  accept  the  Ten  Commandments,  and  of  the 
Bible  "only  the  useful  portions,"  interpreting  the  rest 
allegorically.  They  have  no  icons,  confessions  or 
ceremonies  at  marriages,  which  they  contract  by  the 
heart's  inclination  only.  In  private  life,  wives  and 

36 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

husbands  are  sisters  and  brothers;  the  parents  "old 
man"  and  "old  woman."  The  plenary  power  of  a 
Dukhobor  community  is  vested  in  the  assembly  of 
elders,  presided  over  by  a  bishop. 
My  purpose  in  thus  going  into  detail  about  the  Dukho- 
bors  is  twofold.  First,  all  men  must  concede  that  the 
Dukhobor  gets  nearer  to  Nature  than  the  most  of 
us,  and  therefore  has  much  in  his  religious  life  that 
is  superior  to  much  to  be  found  in  the  life  of  any 
modern  denominational  sect.  But,  to  offset  his  good 
qualities,  the  Dukhobor  has  much  in  him  that  is  bad. 
It  is  a  way  Nature  has.  When  you  see  a  man  with 
marked  qualities  in  one  direction  he  will  be  found 
deficient  in  another.  It  has  to  be  this  way  to  preserve 
a  balance,  fl  The  creed  of  the  Dukhobor  teaches  that 
it  is  sinful  to  eat  any  kind  of  animal  substance,  and 
they  strictly  adhere  to  that  belief  by  refusing  to  use 
anything  that  has  come  in  contact  with  any  animal. 
When  the  Canadian  government  brought  that  colony 
of  Dukhobors  from  Russia,  each  head  of  a  Dukhobor 
family  was  given  160  acres  of  land;  houses  were  built 
for  them  and  their  farms  stocked  with  horses,  cows 
and  poultry.  Farming  implements  were  given  them, 
and  a  number  of  men  were  employed  to  show  them 
how  to  work.  Of  course,  no  government  could  be  ex- 
pected to  show  as  much  consideration  for  the  poor 
and  hungry  of  its  own  native-born.  In  matters  of 
charity  we  often  rob  our  own  of  the  needful  to  give 
to  those  infinitely  better  off  if  let  alone,  fl  And  so  the 
Canadian  government  refused  assistance  to  its  own 
native-born,  and  spent  several  hundred  thousand  dol- 

37 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

lars  for  the  Dukhobor.  This,  of  course,  is  nothing 
against  the  Dukhobor.  What  I  am  getting  at  is  this: 
While  the  Dukhobor  is  intensely  religious,  and  po- 
litically he  is  theocratic,  he  is  also  stubbornly  foolish 
and  distressingly  lazy.  His  bishop's  word  is  his  law. 
But  he  won't  work  if  he  can  get  the  Lord  to  keep  him 
from  hunger  without  it.  Instead  of  staying  home  and 
tending  to  his  knitting,  he  goes  a-swarming  periodic- 
ally in  search  of  the  Christ.  When  he  is  induced  to 
work  he  hitches  his  wife  to  the  plow  along  with  the 
oxen  and  makes  her  hold  up  her  end  with  the  ox. 
Perhaps  the  best  we  can  say  of  him  is  that  he  is  re- 
ligious. 

It  is  this  parallel  that  we  are  arriving  at :  The  Dukho- 
bor's  soul  is  bound  up  in  his  bishop!  The  Soul  of 
the  man  who  dukhobors  life,  is  bound  up  in  the  world's 
ideas  of  yesterday.  While  each  may  be  honest,  he  is 
not  wise.  No  man  can  have  wisdom  who  limits  his 
thoughts  to  those  of  others,  and  confines  his  ideas  to 
those  of  yesterday.  History  is  full  of  proof.  Where 
such  a  condition  exists,  Truth  is  buried  beneath  the 
gangrene  of  bigotry.  Nations  and  men  are  made  great 
by  mothers  and  wives  of  thoughtfulness  and  love. 
Hitch  a  woman  to  a  plow  with  the  ox  and  we  have  a 
priest-ridden  people.  And  a  priest-ridden  people 
never  has  stood  ace  high  in  either  intelligence  or 
morals.  Now,  what  is  a  priest-ridden  people?  I'll 
tell  you  what:  A  priest-ridden  people  is  a  people 
which  never  has  risen  above  its  ideas  of  yesterday. 


THE  MYSTERYOr  MAN 


'Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest." — Pope. 


-J^ 


HE  remarkable  thing  about  it  is  that 
man  will  persist  in  building  up  an 
unfathomable  mystery  about  him- 
self, and  his  future,  and  then  pay 
another  man  to  give  him  peace  of 
mind  by  offering  a  solution  that  does 
not  solve.  It  seems  to  be  a  weak- 
ness of  human  nature  that  impels 
men  to  take  the  way  that  appears 
most  mysterious  to  accomplish  the 
ordinary.  In  his  efforts  to  discover 
some  new  way  to  perform  life's  du- 
ties, man  has  formulated  a  thousand 
and  one  creeds  and  beliefs,  each  of 
which  adds  more  mystery  to  the 
things  he  desires  light  upon. 
When  the  priests  heard  Christ's 
simple  doctrine  of  Love  and  Service 
he  was  swept  away  in  a  whirlwind 
of  abuse.  Up  to  the  time  of  his  com- 
ing "sacrifice"  was  the  keynote  of 
the  established  church,  and  the  word 
was  set  to  the  jingle  of  silver  and 
gold.  Then  came  the  teaching  that 
service  is  more  acceptable  than  sac- 
rifice, and  forthwith  the  priest  saw 
his  doom.  One  of  two  things  had  to 
happen :  The  holy  synod  had  to  put 

39 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Christ  out  of  existence  or  get  out  of  existence  itself. 
Naturally  the  church  chose  its  priestly  privilege  and 
sacrificed  Christ,  that  it  might  live  in  his  name. 
|f  Man  is  a  peculiar  animal,    fl  There  is  just  one  thing 
more  strange,  and  that  is  his  mate,  woman. 
"You  gaze  at  a  star  for  two  motives,  because  it  is 
luminous  and  because  it  is  impenetrable.    You  have 
by  your  side  a  sweeter  radiance  and  greater  mystery 
— woman,"  said  Hugo. 

In  his  business  life  man  is  as  reasonable  and  sensible 
as  can  be,  but  in  matters  affecting  soul  growth — 
really  the  higher  and  better  part  of  his  nature — he  is 
most  unreasonable.  Go  to  the  ordinary  business  man 
with  a  proposition  affecting  his  business  and  he  will 
take  it  up  and  weigh  it  carefully.  If  you  can  show 
him  that  it  means  greater  success  and  greater  oppor- 
tunity for  him,  he  will  put  his  money  into  it  and  set 
the  machinery  in  motion.  He  will  make  it  operative 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  keep  it  busy.  Nor  will  he 
delegate  to  another  the  power  to  dictate  the  proposi- 
tion. In  all  his  methods  he  uses  simple,  honest,  logical 
reason — and  energy,  fl  Contrast  this  with  his  method 
of  advancing  his  Soul  Growth.  Indeed,  most  of  us 
have  no  method.  No  thought  is  taken  of  developing 
the  divine  in  us,  and  to  the  priest  is  delegated  the 
power  to  act  for  us.  Our  business  with  the  Divine  is 
done  by  proxy,  if  at  all.  fl  As  well  say  that  I  may  send 
you  to  school  to  study  mathematics  for  me,  or  to 
the  gymnasium  to  develop  my  muscular  power,  or  to 
the  table  and  to  bed  to  do  my  eating  and  sleeping. 
When  we  delegate  to  another  that  which  we  alone  can 

40 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

do,  we  deprive  ourselves  of  the  only  means  by  which 
we  may  assist  our  growth,  fl  We  evolve  into  better 
men  and  women  by  doing  well  the  common  things 
of  life. 

When  we  exercise  the  physical  and  digestive  ap- 
paratus, and  allow  the  mental  or  the  spiritual  to  stand 
still,  we  become  one-sided,  unsymmetrical  beings,  un- 
fit for  advancement,  fl  This  is  the  condition  of  society 
today.  It  shows  abnormal  development  along  selfish 
lines.  The  church,  moving  with  the  crowd,  has  taken 
on  the  spirit  of  the  day.  It  will  evolve  into  something 
better  when  the  people  do.  It  never  leads  the  way. 
All  down  the  ages  the  way  to  progress  has  been 
opened  by  men  who  were  ostracised  by  the  church,  and 
condemned  by  the  priest.  It  was  so  when  Jesus,  the 
man  Christ  came.  It  was  his  simplicity  and  humility 
that  upset  the  rutified  formality  so  perniciously  ad- 
hered to  by  the  priests.  He  pointed  to  the  absurdity 
of  flowing  gowns,  long  prayers,  majestic  church  build- 
ings, and  a  superfluity  of  altars  of  sacrifice.  All  of 
these  things  were  as  nothing  to  him  if  from  the  heart 
of  man  there  did  not  flow  the  simple  love  that 
made  the  life  radiate  the  Goodness  of  God.  History 
is  full  of  the  names  of  men  who,  growing  tired  of  the 
"religious"  moaning  for  the  "lost  and  sinful  world," 
stood  up  boldly  and  declared  the  divine  right  of  man 
to  be  as  God.  The  priest  never  has  been  pleased  to 
accept  this  teaching.  He  believes,  or  pretends  to  be- 
lieve, that  man  is  made  good — absolved  from  sin — by 
his  priestly  prayers.  As  if  Nature  were  going  to 
teach  a  man  goodness  without  compelling  him  to 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

practice  it!  It  is  an  absurd  thought  to  pretend  that 
we  are  damned  until  some  man  in  a  flowing  gown 
condescends  to  absolve  us  and  put  within  us  good  for 
evil. 

Would  to  God  men  would  stop  long  enough  in  their 
mad  creed  worship  to  get  a  right  good  hold  upon 
themselves.  Think,  you!  Are  we  to  deny  the  God 
of  the  Universe  expression  through  us  for  the  sake  of 
adhering  to  a  narrow  creed  that  depicts  us  as  miser- 
able sinners?  Are  we  to  blind  ourselves  to  the  living 
Spirit  of  Goodness  within  us  that  we  might  adhere  to 
a  doctrine  of  self-abasement?  Are  we  to  continue  to 
refuse  to  receive  that  which  by  nature  we  are  heirs 
to,  simply  to  make  room  for  and  foster  an  organiza- 
tion of  blind  guides? 

I  like  the  writings  of  that  grand  old  Apostle,  Paul. 
When  he  tells  us  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within 
us,  he  does  not  talk  in  riddles.  Custom  has  a  way  of 
rolling1  the  eyes  upward  when  the  word  heaven  is 
mentioned,  and  the  priest  points  away  off  yonder  into 
space.  But  men  of  all  ages  big  enough  to  stand  true 
to  their  convictions,  and  bold  enough  to  give  expres- 
sion to  the  Alpha  and  Omega  in  them— -call  it  Nature, 
Truth,  or  what  you  will — have  at  all  times  declared 
with  the  Apostle,  "the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within 
you."  Absurd,  indeed,  is  the  idea  that  heaven  is  a 
place  where  there  will  not  be  any  useful  work  per- 
formed, flln  our  present  state  of  development — and 
we  are  as  yet  but  poor  expressions  of  Nature — we 
know  how  essential  to  our  evolution  into  more  perfect 
vessels  is  honest,  useful  labor.  Let  a  man  be  kept 

42 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

busy  in  a  useful  calling  and  he  grows  steadily  into 
something  better ;  but  give  him  nothing  to  do,  and  he 
at  once  begins  to  drift  into  decay. 
When  we  see  a  man  spend  millions  on  his  home,  pro- 
viding for  himself  luxuries  that  create  a  demand  for 
laziness  that  he  may  enjoy  them,  we  feel  the  pity  of 
it,  and  the  words  uttered  so  long  ago  ring  in  our  ears, 
"Fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  demanded  of  thee." 
We  know  that  such  a  life  can  lead  only  to  oblivion — 
spiritual  forgetfulness — in  which  there  can  be  no  Soul 
Growth;  and  we  know  that  death  of  soul  must  fol- 
low. The  strenuous  life — the  life  that  accomplishes 
something — is  the  life  we  point  to  with  pride.  Where 
is  the  honest  man  who  does  not  hate  a  lazy  man? 
If  And  yet,  the  heaven  these  false  prophets  point  us 
to  is  to  provide  us  a  place  of  rest,  where  we  can  sit 
and  just  sing  for  God's  sake. 

If  the  streets  of  the  far  away  heaven  are  paved  with 
gold,  and  the  gates  studded  with  pearls,  then  gold 
and  pearls  are  as  common  there  as  concrete  and  cob- 
ble stones  are  here.  And  one  is  no  more  serviceable 
than  the  other,  fl  Of  course,  we  know  this  is  all  a 
fairy  tale,  told  as  we  sometimes  hear  stories  told  to 
children  today,  to  make  them  be  good — a  promise, 
that  if  we  don't  do  what  we  want  to  now  we  may, 
after  a  while,  do  as  we  please.  The  tendency  of  it 
all,  while  it  may  cause  us  to  sacrifice  things  here  in 
the  hope  of  having  something  better  than  our  neigh- 
bor there,  the  tendency  of  it  all  is  to  cause  us  to  look 
away  from  ourselves  for  what  we  should  find  within, 

43 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  to  forget  the  real  of  life  in  blindly  yearning  for 
something  that  does  not  exist  outside  of  story  lore. 
How  much  better  it  would  be  to  turn  our  gaze  from 
the  heaven  far  away,  and  center  it  upon  the  heaven 
within  the  human  soul.  What  nonsense  to  carry  men 
away  into  realms  of  thought  they  can  know  nothing 
about,  and  blind  them  to  their  own  Godlikeness  by 
telling  them  that  God  is  somewhere  outside  of  them- 
selves ! 


HAT  is  this  passion  we  call  jealousy?  The  babe 
Ignorance,  nursed  in  the  lap  of  Lust,  fl  None 
but  a  fool  would  allow  it  to  grow  in  the  heart.  It 
unfits  a  man  for  business — for  society — for  anything 
but  the  felon's  cell  or  the  padded  chamber  of  a  lunatic 
asylum.  It  burns  out  the  heart  and  consumes  reason. 
What  consummate  idiocy  to  attempt  to  pardon,  con- 
done, excuse  this  consuming  passion!  Someone  has 
gone  so  far  even  to  say  that  where  there  is  no 
jealousy  there  is  no  love.  The  proof  of  the  plum  duff 
is  in  the  eating:  if  you  want  to  try  it,  get  jealous, 
and  you  will  find  that  love  and  jealousy  cannot  live 
in  the  same  heart.  I  know:  they  do  say  that  God  is 
a  jealous  God,  but  I  would  as  soon  believe  that  God 
had  a  soul  of  clabber,  a  heart  of  green  cheese  and  a 
head  of  sour  dough. 

44 


NOT  HOWMUCHBUT  HOW  WELL 

"To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  blows  can  give 
Thoughts  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears." 

—Wordsworth. 


O  your  thoughts  "knock  the  persim- 
mons?" In  all  of  life's  duties  and 
privileges;  in  every  phase  and  posi- 
tion and  condition  of  society,  man 
must  answer  for  what  he  thinks  as 
well  as  for  what  he  does.  No  man 
can  go  back  of  his  thoughts.  He 
may  lay  the  blame  for  his  misdeeds 
upon  another,  and  complain  that 
environment  and  temptation  forced 
him  to  do  this,  or  to  leave  undone 
that,  but  his  thoughts  are  his  own 
children  and  it  is  for  him  to  say 
what  those  thoughts  shall  be.  It 
seems  as  though  the  power  to  think 
is  the  God  in  man,  for  as  we  de- 
velop the  capacity  to  think  we  see 
more  of  good  in  the  world  and  less 
of  evil.  And  every  thought  of  good, 
passing  through  the  mind,  leaves  a 
trace  upon  our  character.  The  more 
we  think,  the  greater  will  be  our 
capacity  to  think.  Like  Love, 
Thought  grows  as  we  exercise  it. 
Our  growth  in  character  depends 
upon  our  growth  in  thought,  not 
thought  in  a  collective  sense,  but 
each  individual  thought,  separate 
45 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  apart  from  every  other  thought:  not  so  much  on 
how  much  we  think,  as  how  well. 
The  ability  to  think — to  originate  ideas — to  give  a 
personality  to  one's  mental  children — is  not  given  at 
birth  to  one  man  and  withheld  from  another;  it  is 
every  man's  for  the  taking.  But  thought  is  not  a 
bastard  child :  it  is  the  offspring  of  Concentration  and 
Adaptation,  born  on  the  hard  bed  of  Isolation.  Soli- 
tude is  a  good  berth  in  which  to  lay  the  child,  fl  But 
Solitude  does  not  lead  always  to  good  thinking.  Once 
I  had  a  friend  who  lived  a  solitary  life,  and  he  allowed 
his  thoughts  to  pull  him  into  oblivion  through  the 
door  opening  into  a  suicide's  grave.  He  was  an 
exemplary  young  man;  way  above  the  average  in 
intellect  and  training:  manly  in  all  things  but  his 
conduct  toward  himself.  But  he  was  not  master  of 
Inclination.  Today  was  spent  in  brooding  over  yes- 
terday's misdoings,  instead  of  using  today  in  develop- 
ing today's  blessings  and  privileges. 
"By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them,"  applies  to 
thoughts  as  well  as  to  actions — secular  and  spiritual. 
It  is  not  difficult  to  tell  what  a  man's  thoughts  are 
when  we  can  look  into  his  eye,  or  can  see  his  daily 
life.  How  many  times  we  see  men  who  can  think  and 
work  all  around  a  thing  and  never  touch  it?  Their 
thoughts  don't  "knock  the  persimmons."  Just  like 
yours  and  mine,  sometimes. 


IVE  me  health  and  a  tin  whistle  and  you  can  take 
the  gilded  palace  and  the  band  wagon. 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SAW-FLY. 

"For  time  will  teach  thee  soon  the  truth, 
There  are  no  birds  in  last  year's  nest!" 

—Longfellow. 

'  I  ^  HE  best  way  to  learn  to  do  a  thing  is  to  keep 
•*•  right  on  doing  something.  Just  as  sure  as  a 
man  proves  himself  faithful  in  something  small,  some- 
thing a  deal  bigger  will  come  up  for  him  to  do. 
In  childhood  we  were  sent  to  school  and  made  to 
learn,  day  by  day,  the  lessons  set  before  us.  We  did 
not  know  what  it  would  lead  to;  we  just  surmised 
that  we  were  learning  something  and  so  persisted 
week  after  week  to  master  the  studies  that  were 
given  us. 

Year  by  year  we  found  ourselves  more  capable  of 
doing  the  things  we  wanted  to  do,  yet  we  could  not 
tell  just  how  the  knowledge  came  to  us.  We  only 
knew  that  we  were  compelled  to  study  the  lessons  of 
the  day — one  lesson  at  a  time,  and  just  so  many  each 
day.  It  was  not  hard.  It  was  natural — this  process 
of  education — always  a  gradual  growth.  There  was 
never  a  mighty  spurt  and  then  a  killing  season  of  in- 
activity. All  true  education  is  thus  a  slow  unfoldment. 
Today  we  see  things  more  clearly  than  we  did  yester- 
day. Tomorrow  we  shall  see  them  more  clearly  than 
we  do  today.  We  grow,  step  by  step,  into  harmony 
with  the  Divine  in  Nature.  This  is  no  theory.  Men  in- 
tuitively accept  it  as  a  positive  thing — they  know  that 
all  unfoldment  must  be  by  easy  stages,  fl  We  can  illus- 
trate this  by  alluding  to  the  life  of  the  common  saw- 

47 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

fiy.  The  female  deposits  the  egg  into  a  pocket  in  the 
leaf  of  a  tree.  By  absorbing  the  plant  juices  the  egg 
enlarges,  and  finally  the  young  larva  comes  forth  on 
the  upper  surface  of  the  leaf.  Full  size  is  reached  in 
less  than  a  month,  but  in  that  time  the  larva  casts  its 
skin  four  times,  and  usually  eats  its  cast  skin  for  its 
first  rneal  after  each  molt.  When  full  grown  it  molts  a 
fifth  time.  Up  to  this  stage  a  slimy,  olive-colored  liquid 
exudes  over  the  whole  body  after  each  molting.  Now 
it  appears  as  a  light  orange-yellow  worm,  perfectly 
clean  and  dry,  with  no  slime.  In  this  shape  it  crawls 
down  the  tree  and  penetrates  into  the  earth  for  half 
an  inch  or  more  and  there  it  hibernates  in  a  kind  of 
cocoon  made  by  its  own  saliva  until  the  following 
spring.  Up  to  this  time  it  is  known  as  the  pear  slug. 
When  it  emerges  from  the  cocoon  in  the  spring  it  is 
the  saw-fly.  Step  by  step  it  evolves  into  what  nature 
intended  it  to  be. 

This  is  a  crude  illustration,  but  it  shows  the  natural 
working  of  the  law  of  evolution.  In  every  condition 
of  life  man  evolves  by  easy  stages  into  a  more  perfect 
being.  He  molts  his  ideas,  and  about  the  first  thing 
he  does  after  each  molting  is  to  figuratively  eat  the 
skin  that  previously  clothed  him. 
Recognizing  this  as  the  principle  controlling  all  nat- 
ural life,  it  is  strange  that  man  should  expect  anything 
different  in  the  higher  order  of  being.  And,  yet,  in 
matters  affecting  the  higher  attributes  of  his  being — 
what  we  recognize  as  the  spiritual  side — man  expects 
the  divine  gift  of  God  to  be  handed  out  to  him  like  a 
prize  package  at  a  church  fair.  Men  seek  to  know  the 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

depths,  and  breadths  and  heights  of  God's  mercy  and 
wisdom  and  love,  who  never  have  taken  the  pains  to 
learn  the  alphabet  in  Spiritual  things.  Again,  we 
sometimes  see  our  splendid  orthodox  brethren  praying 
for  God's  sake  for  some  rich  blessing  to  fall  upon 
themselves  or  their  church.  They  forget  that  the  rich- 
est blessing  that  can  come  to  one  was  given  to  the 
Man  Jesus — and  that  blessing  was  the  privilege  that 
is  yours  and  mine  as  much  as  it  was  His — the  privi- 
lege of  working  for  man's  salvation  and  finally  to  die 
for  him. 

We  save  man  not  by  preaching  at  him,  but  by  work- 
ing with  him  the  work  that  is  ours  today  to  do. 
Preaching  never  saved  a  soul  from  hell.  The  most  it 
ever  did  was  to  waken  a  soul  to  its  responsibilities. 
A  life  of  quiet,  unpretentious,  uncomplaining,  satisfy- 
ing labor — doing  things  because  they  ought  to  be  done 
— not  for  praise  and  glory — is  a  deal  more  worthy. 
We  should  ask  no  blessing  from  God  that  we  are  not 
prepared  to  work  for,  then  we  shall  not  be  disap- 
pointed. 


6 


>OD  does  not  need  our  help  so  much  as  His  chil- 
dren do;  and  the  saints  and  martyrs  long  dead 
do  not  need  our  fellowship  so  much  as  our  fellows  do. 
God  can  take  care  of  Himself:  our  duty  is  in  doing 
for  those  about  us. 


49 


THAT  IKIEND  OF  MINE 


"Know  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is 
To  suffer  and  be   strong." — Longfellow. 


EAR  Friend:  You  explained  the  text, 
"Unto  him  who  hath,"  etc.,  so  satis- 
factorily to  me  that  I  want  to  ask 
you  to  tell  us  some  time  about  an- 
other thing  I  have  been  thinking  of. 
I  have  a  sister  living  with  me  who 
is  a  member  of  an  orthodox  church 
and  in  a  discussion  the  other  day 
she  said  no  one  could  be  really  good 
who  had  not  been  to  God  and 
humbled  himself  and  asked  forgive- 
ness for  past  sins.  I  said  I  did  not 
think  God  wanted  us  to  spend  our 
time  in  useless  regrets  over  what 
was  past  but  to  start  now  on  the 
way  to  do  our  best  each  day  in  the 
right  direction.  And  my  sister 
quoted  the  Lord's  prayer  that  we 
both  learned  to  say  at  our  mother's 
knee.  And  she  said  that  Christ  said, 
"When  ye  pray,  say  'Our  Father 
who  art  in  heaven,'  etc.,  and  when 
she  reached  the  'forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes as  we  forgive  those  who 
trespass  against  us,'  she  laid  great 
stress  upon  that.  Now  I  want  to 
know  just  what  you  think  of  this, 
and  thought  perhaps  you  would 
50 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

write  something  for  us  in  our  Best  Magazine  that 
would  settle  the  point.  She  thinks  we  ought  to  ac- 
knowledge ourselves  to  be  poor,  miserable  sinners, 
and  falling  on  our  knees  acknowledge  ourselves  to  be 
such  to  God.  But  somehow  I  could  not  think  it  neces- 
sary for  us  to  do  that.  Do  you?  B.  C.  H. 

"The  man  of  perfect  virtue,  wishing  to  establish  himself, 
seeks  also  to  establish  others;  wishing  to  enlarge  himself, 
he  seeks  to  enlarge  others." — Confucius. 

There  is  as  great  a  knack  in  putting  a  question  as  in 
answering  one,  and  this  friend  has  that  knack.  If  our 
answer  to  the  question  will  open  to  the  questioner  as 
broad  a  field  of  thought  as  her  asking  the  question  has 
opened  to  the  writer,  we  all  shall  have  gained  by  it. 
First,  then,  what  is  the  meaning  of  being  good?  One 
man's  standard  of  Goodness  is  quite  different  from 
another's.  No  two  standards  are  alike.  I  have  my 
standard,  you  have  yours,  but  neither  you  nor  I  have 
any  right  to  compel  another  to  come  up  to  that 
standard.  My  standard  is  for  me;  your  standard  for 
you.  fl  Christ's  standard  of  Goodness  was  for  him.  It 
was  so  different  from  the  then  orthodox  standard  of 
Goodness  that  he  was  crucified  for  teaching  it. 
And,  again,  what  is  meant  by  the  expression  "been  to 
God?"  One  child  has  its  way  of  going  to  its  father 
and  telling  him  what  it  believes  he  will  be  interested 
in  knowing;  another  child  has  another  way.  There 
may  be  a  vast  difference  in  the  way  they  do  it,  but 
who  shall  say  one  way  is  wrong  and  the  other  right? 
fl  And  then,  too,  dear  heart,  isn't  Goodness  Goodness, 
wherever  you  find  it?  If  so,  and  you  spend  your  days 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

in  doing  what  you  believe  to  be  good,  are  you  to  be 
damned  in  spite  of  it  all  because  you  do  not  comply 
with  what  another  has  set  as  his  standard  of  Good- 
ness? If  Christ  met  the  same  rebuke  at  the  hands  of 
the  priests  of  long  ago.  He  neglected  to  fulfill  the 
requirements  of  the  orthodox  church  and,  instead, 
spent  his  days  comforting  the  widows  and  fatherless, 
healing  the  sick,  and  feeding  the  poor.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  to  desecrate  the  Sabbath  in  the  very  face  of 
a  hostile  priesthood. 

No  amount  of  law  observance  would  have  put  the 
spirit  of  love  into  Christ.  And  with  all  the  sackcloth 
and  ashes  business  demanded  of  him  by  the  priests, 
the  Son  of  God  never  could  have  accomplished  his 
mission  on  earth  had  he  done  that,  and  that  only,  thus 
fulfilling  the  law. 

I  am  not  going  to  say  what  is  essential  to  Goodness 
in  you.  I  only  know  what  is  essential  to  goodness  in 
myself.  But  of  this  I  am  sure:  if  I  should  hear  a 
child  go  to  its  earthly  parent  day  after  day,  week  in 
and  week  out,  and  whine  about  being  so  miserably 
sinful,  I  should  feel  that  that  parent  was  not  fulfilling 
his  duty  to  that  child  did  he  not  lay  the  youngster 
across  his  knee  and  spank  some  goodness  into  it.  I  do 
not  want  to  say  anything  unorthodox,  but  really,  now, 
don't  you  think  God  gets  very  tired  hearing  this 
melancholy  wail  that  goes  up  day  after  day  about 
man's  sinful  and  wormy  condition? 
I  would  not  say  that  man  should  refuse  to  humble 
himself  before  God  and  ask  His  forgiveness.  If  we 
feel  we  have  done  wrong  to  anybody  we  ought  to  be 

52 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

ready  at  all  times  to  make  matters  right  by  seeking 
forgiveness.  But,  goodness,  me !  Are  we  to  be  "weak 
and  unworthy,  miserable  offenders"  forever?  And  if 
not  forever,  then  how  long?  Until  we  have  "been  to 
God?"  And  who  is  to  say  when  that  is?  When  we 
have  joined  some  orthodox  church?  Perhaps,  for 
some.  But  I  am  sure  the  worst  complainers  I  ever 
heard  have  been  the  best  followers  of  orthodoxy.  Sun- 
day after  Sunday,  year  after  year,  they  carry  the  same 
story  to  God  about  their  unworthiness  and  miserable 
sinfulness.  Mind  you,  I  am  not  saying  they  are  not 
unworthy.  For  I  do  not  think  any  man  is  worthy  of 
another's  love  who  believes  that  he  is  not.  I  would 
not  give  my  love  to  anyone  who  was  ever  whining 
about  his  unworthiness.  Would  you?  And  I  am  posi- 
tive, from  what  I  have  seen,  that  God  does  not. 
The  man  or  woman  who  is  worthy  of  God's  love  gets 
it.  And  the  best  evidence  we  can  have  that  a  man  has 
"been  to  God"  is  when  we  see  him  engaged  in  acts  of 
kindness  to  his  fellows,  and  standing  upright  before 
the  world  as  a  man,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  un- 
abashed and  not  afraid.  God  does  not  want  man  made 
in  his  image  to  go  groveling  in  the  earth  like  a  worm. 
I  have  very  little  respect  for  the  man  who  can  go  to 
church  Sabbath  after  Sabbath  and,  falling  upon  his 
knees,  cry,  "Good  Lord,  deliver  us;  forgive  us,  Good 
Lord;  miserable  offenders;  we  have  left  undone  what 
we  ought  to  have  done,  and  have  done  what  we  ought 
not  to  have  done,  and  there  is  no  help  in  us."  This  is 
not  humility.  It  is  downright  shamefulness.  fl  The 
best  indication  we  can  have  that  a  man  has  repented 

53 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

of  his  sins  is  when  he  leaves  off  sinning.  A  business 
man  does  not  mind  a  mistake  now  and  then,  but  he 
detests  having  an  employe  about  him  who  is  everlast- 
ingly making  mistakes,  and  coming  whiningly  to  him 
confessing  them.  It  is  impossible  for  that  man  to 
grow  into  a  more  useful  person  while  he  persists  in 
making  mistakes,  and  is  content  to  live  in  the  false 
belief  that  confession  of  guilt  is  an  excuse  for  wrong. 
Confession  of  guilt  is  nothing — repentance  is  nothing 
— if  it  does  not  lead  a  man  to  determine  to  quit  the 
offense.  And  what  is  true  in  this  respect  of  business 
is  true  in  matters  pertaining  to  man's  spiritual  condi- 
tion. It  is  psychologically  impossible  for  a  man  to 
become  anything  but  a  miserable  sinner  while  he  car- 
ries that  thought  in  his  mind,  fl  We  become  like  our 
thoughts.  If  the  mind  is  occupied  with  thoughts  of 
our  importance  as  messengers  or  mediums  through 
which  the  Divine  Power  is  working  his  own  purpose, 
we  forget  all  about  the  matter  of  sin  and  become  ready 
instruments  in  the  hands  of  the  Power  that  is  in  and 
through  and  behind  all.  And  as  we  hold  the  thought 
that  we  are  Gods  in  the  chrysalis  we  molt  the  idea 
that  we  are  miserable  sinners,  and  grow  into  God's 
handiwork  in  that  we  become  like  Him.  And  we 
never  worry  our  heads  about  so  small  a  matter  as  that 
of  "being  good,"  and  "meeting  God."  When  God 
wants  us  to  meet  Him,  He  will  call  us  to  Him.  Until 
he  does,  it  is  enough  for  us  to  mind  our  own  business 
and  let  Him  use  us  as  He  sees  best,  in  prosecuting  the 
work  of  bringing  all  Nature  into  a  more  perfect  ex- 
pression of  the  Divine  Love  and  beauty  and  power. 

54 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

You  are  right,  dear  heart;  God  does  not  want  us  to 
spend  our  time  in  useless  regrets.  And  as  for  this 
good  old  orthodox  custom  of  daubing  one's  self  a 
"miserable  sinner,"  and  living  so  as  to  make  the  appel- 
lation stick;  well,  if  that  is  the  highest  ambition  one 
has,  Nature  will  boost  him  that  way.  She  is,  however, 
just  as  ready  to  boost  him  the  other  way. 
When  our  good  brother,  the  Nazarene,  said,  "Forgive 
us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass 
against  us,"  he  simply  gave  expression  to  a  law  that  is 
absolutely  just;  a  law  that  God  himself  could  not 
reverse.  It  is  that  immutable  law  of  Compensation. 
"Forgive  us  as  we  forgive."  That  is  it:  As  we  for- 
give. In  the  measure  we  forgive,  we  shall  be  forgiven. 
And  so,  dear  heart,  if  we  hold  no  malice  against  an- 
other— if  we  forget  his  weaknesses  by  focussing  our 
gaze  and  our  love  upon  his  virtues,  God  will  do  like- 
wise with  us,  and  if  we  see  no  sin  in  others,  God  will 
see  no  sin  in  us.  Jesus  in  his  abundant  love  tried  so 
hard  to  teach  this.  But  he  could  not  because  the 
world  was  not  ready  for  it.  He  gave  his  life  because 
the  law  demanded  it  in  compensation  for  the  privilege 
of  teaching  his  gospel  of  love,  and  in  the  giving  gained 
immortality,  a  worthy  recompense. 
|f  "She  thinks  we  ought  to  acknowledge  ourselves  to 
be  poor,  miserable  sinners."  How  often?  Every  day? 
All  the  time?  Who  gains  by  such  an  acknowledg- 
ment? God,  or  we?  Do  you  think  God  wants  to  have 
a  lot  of  "poor,  miserable  sinners"  working  for  Him? 
I  would  not.  Would  you?  I  like  to  have  as  associates 
in  business  and  social  life,  men  and  women  who 

55 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

haven't  any  time  to  quarrel  with  themselves,  with  God 
or  with  anyone  else  about  their  poor,  miserable  state. 
Men  are  poor  and  miserable,  and  sinful,  too,  only 
when  they  think  they  are.  God  does  not  want  them  to 
be,  and  nobody  else  wants  them  to  be.  But,  when  a 
man  insists  that  he  is,  why,  then,  he  is.  That  is  his 
privilege,  and  we  must  acknowledge  his  right.  Still 
he  would  be  a  much  finer  specimen  of  manhood  were 
he  to  break  away  from  that  accursed  belief  and  come 
out  strong  in  the  Sunlight  of  the  Universal  Love. 
Why,  bless  your  soul,  brother,  sister;  what  good  rea- 
son can  we  have  for  loading  our  minds  down  with 
such  distressing  thoughts  of  sinfulness?  Are  we  made 
any  better  by  it?  Be  honest  with  yourself,  now:  do 
you  feel  you  are  making  yourself  or  the  world  any 
better  by  confessing  oft  and  sorrowfully  that  you  are 
such  a  poor  specimen  of  Nature's  handiwork  that  you 
have  got  to  keep  up  a  continual  quarrel  with  yourself 
about  what  you  have  done  and  left  undone?  Don't 
you  think  it  would  be  more  elevating  for  you,  and 
therefore  for  the  world,  if  you  and  I  would  cast  off 
this  puny  attitude  of  weakness — for  sinfulness  is  weak- 
ness— and  get  the  thought  firmly  implanted  in  the 
mind  that  we  amount  to  something,  and  are  really 
instruments  in  the  Divine  Expression  of  the  grandest 
and  noblest  and  best  in  Nature? 

How  much  love  and  cheer  and  happiness  can  a  miser- 
able workman  in  any  calling  bring  or  give  to  the 
world?  How  much  of  purity  and  faith  and  fellowship 
can  a  miserable  sinner  radiate  on  the  path  of  life? 
fl  No,  no ;  it  cannot  be !  We  must  look  higher  than 

56 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

this  plane  of  thought  of  man's  unworthiness,  if  we  are 
to  develop  into  something  more  useful  to  the  world 
than  a  sin  besmirched  animal,  self-appointed  to  be 
damned. 

So  long  as  man  holds  to  this  unworthy  belief  about 
himself,  and  what  he  knows  as  his  God,  he  will  not 
reach  the  plane  he  should,  fl  Let  us  abstain  from  doc- 
trinizing  and  criticising.  No  man  can  doubt  the  sin- 
cerity of  the  men  of  all  ages  who  have  drummed  this 
doctrine  of  sin  into  the  heads  of  all  peoples.  It  has 
continued  until  the  world  stinks  to  high  heaven  with  a 
sinfulness  self-inflicted,  and  foolish  as  it  is  unmerited. 
But,  really,  brother,  do  you  believe  that  man  is  lower 
in  the  scale  of  animal  life  than  the  plant  by  my  side  or 
the  pig  across  the  way?  The  plant  is  not  a  "miserable 
sinner."  It  lives  its  life  pure  and  holy  in  the  hands  of 
Nature.  Its  purpose  in  life  is  to  express  the  Divine 
in  Nature.  The  hog  may  wallow  in  filth,  but  that  is 
his  nature  and,  in  spite  of  it,  he  is  as  pure  and  unde- 
filed  an  expression  of  Nature  as  the  rose  in  the  garden 
or  the  new  born  babe  at  the  mother's  breast.  Because 
one  is  lower  in  the  scale  of  life  than  the  other,  it  does 
not  follow  that  it  is  less  true  in  its  expression  of  the 
Divine;  and  if  not  less  true,  then  it  is  as  holy  as  the 
other;  whatever  this  word  "holy"  may  mean. 
Man  develops  by  easy  stages.  The  time  he  spends  in 
his  present  form  is  not  long.  What  he  shall  next  be 
we  cannot  know.  But  this  is  sure:  if  he  strives  ear- 
nestly and  seeks  diligently  to  express  from  day  to  day 
more  of  the  Divine  in  Nature,  he  shall  develop  into  a 

57 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

more  perfect  medium  through  which  more  of  what  we 
call  God  shall  find  expression. 

The  fact  that  this  is  the  way  Nature  does  all  things 
should  cause  us  to  stop  in  our  foolish  efforts  to  reach 
heaven  by  any  other  road.  Nature  will  not  be  balked. 
She  is  Divine,  and  through  her  we  see  God.  Nature 
puts  as  much  of  what  we  call  God  in  every  man  as  is 
necessary  to  make  him  radiate  the  life  of  Goodness. 
ft  False  teaching  from  away  back  down  the  ages  has 
caused  humanity  to  lose  heart  in  itself.  Hence  the 
"miserable  sinner"  cry.  But  Nature  is  not  so  fickle 
as  man.  She  ever  stands  ready  to  express  through  the 
individual  as  much  of  the  Divine  as  the  individual  is 
capable  of  giving  expression  to.  And  his  capacity  is 
all  a  matter  of  the  man's  willingness  to  serve  and  his 
susceptibility  of  growth,  coupled  with  his  readiness  to 
truthfully  express  the  note  that  sounds  in  his  heart. 
ft  I  say  heart,  because  we  understand  the  expression, 
but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  do  not  know  where  that 
little  monitor  we  call  Conscience  lives;  nor  do  we 
know  that  it  is  anything  but  the  Divine  in  us.  We 
feel  it,  but  cannot  tell  whence  it  came  nor  whither 
bound.  It  is  omnipresent  but  inexplainable.  May  it 
not  be  the  God  in  us? 

I  have  said  that  Nature  puts  enough  of  God  in  every 
man  to  make  this  world  a  paradise  if  man  would  give 
expression  to  it.  Study  it  out  and  see  if  it  isn't  true. 
ft  Instead  of  expressing  his  goodness,  man  has  assumed 
the  "miserable  sinner"  attitude,  and  the  cry  of  the  age 
is,  "Good  Lord,  deliver  us  from  ourselves."  The 
assumption  of  sin  has  been  handed  down  from  father 

58 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


to  child,  until  man,  instead  of  being  true  to  Nature, 
and  allowing  her  perfect  unfoldment  through  him, 
makes  a  felon  of  himself  and  his  fellows. 
And  millions  and  millions  of  dollars  are  spent  annually 
to  erect  churches  wherein  men  make  a  show  of  good- 
ness and  sing  praises  to  a  God,  who  would,  if  per- 
mitted, find  infinitely  better  expression  through  them 
in  the  every  day  work  they  do. 


E  laugh  at  the  old  lady,  and  the  young  one,  who 
expects  to  discover  some  sign  of  a  favorable 
future  in  her  teacup,  and  yet,  we  men  do  sometimes 
look  for  as  foolish  things  in  what  we  call  luck,  and 
chance.  We  believe  we  must  wait  for  the  oppor- 
tunity before  we  can  strike  out  for  Success.  If  there 
is  any  one  opportunity  of  a  life  time,  when  a  man  may 
look  for  results  of  his  labors,  it  is  when  he  decides 
definitely  and  forever  to  throw  off  all  dependence  on 
luck  and  chance,  and  centers  his  efforts  on  achieve- 
ment through  character,  enterprise,  and  self-education. 
You  are  not  prepared  for  another  job  until  you  can 
unselfishly  love  the  job  you  have  got.  When  push  is 
applied  to  patience,  and  plod  to  purpose,  no  power  on 
earth  can  cut  you  off  from  the  paychute  of  Success. 

59 


JUST  A  THOUGHT 

"I  preached  as  never  sure  to  preach  again, 
And  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men." — Baxter. 


ET  us  go  back  tonight  in  memory  to 
the  old  home  far  away,  and  take  a 
peep  in  at  Mother.  She's  waiting 
there  to  greet  us,  as  only  Mother 
can.  Supper  is  over;  the  dishes  are 
washed,  and  Mother  has  picked  up 
the  piece  of  work  laid  down  when 
supper  was  announced.  Adjusting 
her  glasses  she  bends  low  to  see  the 
stitches  are  right,  and  proceeds  in 
silence.  Brother  and  sister  are  in 
the  room.  They  have  taken  up  their 
books  to  read,  and  are  laying  back 
for  a  lazy  evening.  A  busy  day  at 
the  office  makes  the  quiet  rest  need- 
ful, and  they  do  not  want  to  be  dis- 
turbed. Mother  has  been  alone  all 
day,  with  nobody  about  to  talk  to. 
She  wants  to  talk  now.  A  question 
or  two  is  asked,  but,  receiving  only 
a  disinterested  yawn  for  an  answer, 
she  concludes  not  to  say  any  more, 
and  silently  works  on. 
A  sigh  from  the  heart  tells  of  a  load 
there,  but  she  chokes  it  back  and 
bends  closer  to  her  work.  Her 
thoughts  turn  to  the  son  and  daugh- 
ter out  East — no  matter  where— you 
60 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  I.  Green  fields  are  always  away  over  there. 
Angelic  daughters,  and  affectionate  sons  are,  too.  If 
you  and  I  were  only  home — there  by  her  side.  The 
word  of  love,  of  confidence,  that  her  dear  ears  have  so 
long  wanted  to  hear,  would  in  love  be  spoken,  and  the 
tears  of  anguish  now  suppressed  would  give  place  to 
tears  of  joy. 

Her  Mother  love  ignores  distance  and  starts  out  upon 
the  sea  of  space  like  a  Marconi  "tick"  to  be  picked  up 
by  the  sympathetic  heart  tuned  in  harmony  with  hers. 
Into  the  hills  of  the  lumber  camps,  up  and  down  the 
village  streets,  and  into  the  heights  and  depths  of  the 
city's  dives  of  manlessness,  the  vibrant  love  from  the 
signal  tower  of  Mother's  heart  flits  here  and  there. 
She  calls  and  signals  for  the  love  of  the  boy  and  girl 
away  from  home;  she  longs  to  get  in  touch  with  the 
one  who  can  bring  joy  to  her  lonely  heart,  fl  Perhaps 
that  one  is  you!  See!  Do  you  not  see  her,  sitting 
lonely  there,  listening  with  the  ears  of  the  heart — ears 
so  delicately  attuned  that  the  faintest  wave  of  love 
flowing  from  you  will  be  picked  up  by  that  heart  of 
hearts!  There  is  something  so  tender  in  Mother's 
love,  something  almost  divine.  There  isn't  a  manly 
man  that  breathes  who  does  not  feel  it — and  honor  it. 
Get  in  touch  then,  brother!  Every  thought  of  her 
flies  home.  It  brings  joy  to  her  and  ennobles  you. 
And,  think  of  it!  All  it  costs  is  a  thought — just  a 
thought ! 


ISN'T  it  unfortunate  that  we  are  not  somebody 
else! 

61 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

THE  HARVEST  OF  OUR  HEARTACHES. 

"The  hell  of  waters',    where  they  howl  and  hiss."— Byron. 

NATURE  is  as  much  pleased  at  our  heartaches  as 
at  our  joys.  She  is  served  as  much  by  one  as 
the  other.  And  so,  when  life's  trials  bear  heavily  upon 
you — when  the  storms  of  criticism  and  sorrow  roll 
over  you — when  the  Valley  of  Defeat  encompasses 
you ;  then,  of  all  times,  be  brave ! 
11  Oh,  the  good  of  a  robust  heartache !  What  growth 
we  experience  in  it — if  we  take  it  rightly!  What  love 
has  been  planted;  what  joy  has  sprouted;  what  faith 
has  bloomed!  When  stricken  as  from  above  by  the 
hand  of  fate,  or  of  a  friend;  when  the  light  that  has 
shone  about  us  has  been  snuffed,  and  we  are  left,  as  it 
were,  in  darkness,  and  the  shadow  of  gloom ;  when  our 
very  heartstrings  seem  almost  to  break,  how  prone 
we  are  to  give  up !  how  easy  then  to  be  conquered ! 
And  yet,  when  we  relax,  when  we  cease  to  struggle, 
we  find  the  phantom  of  sorrow  disappears  and  we  have 
nothing  left  to  fight.  Then,  bless  you,  what  a  flood  of 
joy  comes  into  the  heart,  and  how  strong  our  love  has 
grown !  I  have  seen  faces,  and  so  have  you,  which  told 
of  hearts  nigh  bursting  with  grief :  dazed,  stunned,  be- 
reft ;  seen  them  in  the  street,  in  the  home — in  the  glass, 
alone  in  the  solitude  of  the  bed-chamber.  The  look  of 
anguish  wrung  our  hearts.  We  tried  to  smile,  and 
the  face  tried  to  smile  back  at  us,  but  the  lines  tight- 
ened about  the  lips  and  great  tears  welled  to  the  eyes. 
Something  much  prized  has  gone  out  of  the  life;  per- 

62 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

haps  someone  has  ceased  to  live,  and  there  is  such  a 
hunger  for  love,  such  a  capacity  for  affection!  How 
we  long  to  give  the  word  that  will  give  cheer  and 
comfort;  if  we  could  but  tell  the  sorrowing  one  that 
there  is  no  tragedy  except  for  those  who  believe  it; 
that  the  hammering  of  Fate  is  but  to  put  the  soul  into 
better  trim  for  the  work  to  be  demanded  of  it — that 
every  tear-drop  carries  from  the  heart  some  expression 
of  the  Divine  personality;  that  the  pains  we  feel  are 
but  the  growing-pains  of  Nature  giving  birth  to  some 
new  attribute  in  our  cosmos.  What  "though  some 
loved  form  is  lying  cold  and  rigid  in  death — will  not 
we,  too,  some  day  fold  our  hands,  just  so,  across  our 
breasts  and  sleep!  Or  if  love  has  gone  to  another, 
why  should  we  desire  to  compel  it;  would  we  not 
make  those  free  we  love?"  And,  too,  is  not  death  as 
much  the  fulfillment  of  life  as  living?  When  the  rose 
bush  is  dropping  its  leaves,  and  stands  thorny  and 
crooked  and  bare,  is  it  fulfilling  less  the  requirements 
of  Nature  than  when  it  stands  beautiful  and  green 
with  foliage,  and  rich  in  fragrant  bloom? 


SUNSHINE  OUT. 

"Ye  are  wondrous  strong, 
Yet  lovely  in  your  strength."— Scott, 

FLEE  the  patronizing,  superior  man  and  woman. 
The  world  has  little  need  of  him  or  her.      Such  per- 
sons do  exist,  'tis  unfortunately  true,  and  occasionally 
we  see  them  thrust  into  positions  they  should  not  oc- 

63 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

cupy,  but  they  are  not  needed.  The  community  is 
better  off  without  them.  I  have  in  mind  an  incident 
in  life  which  I  once  saw  portrayed.  There  was  a  dear 
old  lady,  surprisingly  clever,  kind,  motherly,  and  con- 
siderate. And  she  was  the  plainest  person  that  ever 
smoothed  the  troubled  brow  of  sorrow's  waif.  Simple ! 
why,  bless  you,  she  was  simple  as  Mother — so  simple 
she  was  misunderstood.  There  came  before  the  grand, 
womanly  soul  a  young,  talkative  thing  with  patron- 
izing air,  who  knew  so  little  she  did  not  have  to  think 
when  she  talked.  At  a  little  social  event  the  young 
woman  brushed  rudely  by  the  old  lady,  with  proud 
head  thrown  back  and  lips  set  in  disdainful  mockery. 
As  she  drew  near  the  second  time,  leaning  on  the  arm 
of  her  escort  and  with  an  air  of  superiority  betokening 
ignorance,  the  dear  lady  leaned  forward  and  smiled. 
That  was  all  she  did.  But  there  was  such  simple 
kindness — such  mother  love — such  nobility  of  char- 
acter, behind  that  smile  that  the  proud  vixen  was 
brought  low,  and  for  the  moment  she  was  a  child 
again. 

It  is  such  simplicity  this  old  world  needs.  It  wants 
men  and  women  who  can  rise  above  jealousy,  malice, 
hate,  whim,  envy  and  fear — whose  lives  are  pure  as 
the  atmosphere  of  the  snow-capped  hills — who  live, 
and  want  others  to  live,  their  lives  up  to  their  highest 
and  best.  Men  and  women  who  will  say  the  word  of 
encouragement  to  the  heart-sick  soul,  and  will  turn 
every  sorrow  bright  side  out — who  will  meet  every 
disappointment,  every  difficulty,  thoughtfully,  and 
without  fear  and  unabashed.  Men  and  women  who 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

believe  that  the  man  who  follows  the  plow  is  as  good 
as  the  man  who  sits  at  the  desk  of  the  ruler  of  the 
nation — provided  the  man  behind  the  plow  is  as  simple 
and  honest  and  kind;  as  frank  and  natural  and  God- 
loving,  as  the  man  at  the  head  of  the  nation. 


person  who  readily  perceives  faults,  will  never 
see  anything  else,  for  the  eye  is  not  trained  to 
catch  the  good.  Why?  Why,  because  Goodness  or 
Godness  is  not  a  part  of  their  make-up.  We  attract 
the  thoughts  we  hold.  All  Nature  is  in  harmony. 
God's  earth  is  as  it  should  be.  If  it  does  not  har- 
monize with  our  moods,  we  should  change  them.  For, 
look  here,  brother ;  if  we  are  suspicious  of  our  fellows 
here  we  shall  be  suspicious  of  our  fellows  there:  if 
we  do  not  take  heaven  with  us  into  the  next  world,  it 
will  be  hell  to  be  in  heaven. 

STAND  for  something!  Don't  be  a  putty  man. 
Make  your  individuality  felt,  whatever  your 
sphere  of  life.  No  circumstance,  or  combination  of 
circumstances,  can  be  set  up  as  an  excuse  for  your 
being  a  cipher.  The  greatest  hindrance  to  success 
is  self-distrust,  and  a  lack  of  the  initiative.  Men  were 
not  created  in  the  mass.  God's  best  gift  to  you  is 
your  originality.  Cherish  it.  It  is  yours.  No  one  can 
take  it  from  you  if  you  refuse  to  let  them. 

65 


THE  SNAKE  THAT  GOD  MADE 

"Dost  thou  think,  because  thou  art  vir- 
tuous, there  shall  be  no  more  cakes  and 
ale  ? ' ' — Shakespeare. 


DO  not  know  what  happens  to  you 
when  you  tread  ruthlessly  upon  an 
ant,  and  beat  the  life  out  of  a  snake 
with  a  club;  but  when  I  hear  of 
your  doing  it,  my  heart  tells  me 
there  is  so  much  less  of  God  in  the 
world  and  more  of  evil,  for  God  is 
as  much  in  the  snake  as  in  the  ant, 
and  as  much  in  either  as  in  you." 
This  thought  has  astounded  some. 
Others  it  has  set  thinking.  One  dear 
heart  tells  me :  "Oh,  no !  my  friend ; 
God  fills  all  space;  he  is  not  in  us 
nor  in  animals,  but  everything  re- 
flects God  in  degree.  The  moon  re- 
flects the  sun,  but  the  sun  is  not  in 
the  moon,  nor  is  the  moon  in  the 
sun." 

Without  going  into  any  discussion 
of  theology,  let  us  draw  close  to 
that  heart  within  and  see  what  it 
tells  us.  It  is  true,  as  far  as  we 
know,  that  the  sun  is  not  in  the 
moon.  This,  however,  has  nothing 
to  do  with  God  in  man.  According 
to  scientists  the  moon  is  a  dead 
world.  What  it  was  before  it  be- 
came a  dead  world  we  have  no  way 
66 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

of  knowing.  It  reflects  the  sunshine ;  it  does  not  reflect 
the  sun.  To  reflect  the  sun  it  would  have  to  be  alive 
and  give  forth  the  heat  of  the  sun  as  well  as  the 
sunshine. 

Jesus  had  the  right  conception  of  life — perhaps  the 
most  natural  and  truest  that  ever  came  to  man.  And 
when  he  said:  "My  father  and  I  are  one;  my  father 
in  me,  I  in  you,"  he  touched  the  source  of  all  life,  but 
did  not  go  into  it,  for  the  world  was  not  ready  for  it 
then.  The  same  condition  has  stood  in  the  way  of 
many  men  since  Christ,  and  deterred  them  in  making 
known  a  fuller  conception  of  man's  relationship  to  the 
Power  we  call  God. 

Man  is  not  a  dead  thing  like  the  moon.  The  con- 
sciousness and  subconsciousness  of  man ;  the  impulses 
to  do  good  that  are  in  us  all,  no  matter  what  our 
faith,  our  calling  or  creed,  is  an  absolute  assurance  to 
my  mind  that  the  power  or  being  we  call  God  is  not 
only  in,  and  working  through,  but  is  actually  a  part 
of  man.  Our  conception  of  the  Being  we  know  as  God 
depends  on  our  conception  of  the  being  we  know  as 
man.  If  our  conception  of  one  is  erroneous,  unnatural 
and  weak,  our  conception  of  the  other  will  be  erron- 
eous, unnatural  and  weak. 

We  know  life  only  in  the  measure  that  we  live  it.  If 
my  mind  has  been  confined  to  a  narrow  channel  of 
thought  in  relation  to  my  soul  and  the  soul  of  my 
fellows;  if  I  have  been  reared  in  the  belief  of  man's 
eternal  damnation,  and  his  absolute  unworthiness 
before  the  God  Father  who  knows  all  and  is  in  all 
space — and  therefore  must  be  in  all  living  things  that 

67 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

fill  all  space — then  it  will  be  unnatural  for  me  to  real- 
ize that  God  is  in  all.  It  will  be  extremely  difficult, 
too,  for  me  to  see  more  than  the  animal  in  the  man 
beside  me. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  my  mind  thinks  only  those 
things  of  my  fellows  that  brings  man  closer  in  har- 
mony with  nature  and  therefore  with  God,  then  it 
were  easy  for  me  to  see  God  in  my  fellowman  as  well 
as  in  the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  birds  of  the  air  and 
the  green  grass  that  carpets  the  rolling  hills. 
To  know  all  is  to  love  all,  and  to  love  all  is  to  know 
God.  We  cannot  know  Him  in  any  other  way  than  by 
knowing  him  in  and  through  the  men  and  women  by 
our  side.  If  we  live  close  enough  to  the  Universal 
Heart  we  shall  know  in  a  natural  way  the  God  in 
Nature  and  what  heaven  is.  If  we  have  allowed  man 
to  detract  our  thoughts  from  the  God  Man  in  Man, 
then  we  shall  pass  clean  out  of  harmony  with  the  deep 
underlying  principle  that  is  in  all  Nature,  and  our 
thoughts  will  be  restricted  to  the  narrow  line  where 
Nature's  shallows  lay  bare  the  weaknesses  of  the  man 
animal. 

To  say  that  we  know  God  while  there  is  a  particle  of 
doubt  in  our  minds  about  the  inherent  Godhead  in 
man,  is  to  deceive  ourselves.  If  God  is  not  in  man 
then  he  is  not  anywhere;  and  if  man  does  not  make 
heaven  in  his  heart  he  will  not  experience  it  anywhere. 
This  is  a  pessimistic  view,  say  you?  No.  For  me  it 
is  the  essence  of  Optimism,  fl  I  waste  no  time  dream- 
ing about  the  heaven  to  come.  I  do  not  care  if  I 
never  see  another  heaven  than  this.  ]f  I  waste  no  time 

68 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

trying  "to  be  good,"  so  as  to  get  to  heaven  when  I 
die.  I  want  to  do  my  duty  to  my  fellows,  that  is  all. 
Not  that  I  may  have  their  praise,  but  that  I  may  know 
I  have  given  expression  truthfully  and  naturally  to 
the  voice  of  Nature  speaking  in  and  through  me.  Bet- 
ter that  my  physical  body  were  dead  than  that  I 
should  harness  my  thoughts  to  a  foolish  belief  that 
God  is  in  all  space  and  yet  not  in  the  live,  pulsating 
hearts  of  the  creatures  of  His  handiwork.  Sad,  indeed, 
the  thought  that  the  Infinite  should  fill  all  space,  and 
ignore  the  Being  created  in  his  own  image.  Every 
atom  of  the  universe  is  God  in  the  atom. 
This  thing  we  call  sin  is  the  result  of  man's  abuse  and 
misuse  of  the  God  in  all.  To  teach  that  man  is  full  of 
sin  is  an  absurdity.  He  is  no  more  sinful  than  the 
Creator,  if  he  follows  the  course  of  Nature  and  lives 
true  to  the  God  within.  When  I  am  true  to  myself 
and  express  the  Truth  as  it  seeks  expression  through 
me,  then  I  am  in  harmony  with  the  Divine  in  Nature, 
for  then  I  have  suppressed  nothing.  Suppression  is 
the  one  great  evil.  There  is  none  other  like  it,  in  that 
growth  is  stifled  by  it,  and  when  we  stop  growing,  we 
die  (though  we  may  not  be  buried),  and  are  no  longer 
fit  instruments  through  which  Life  may  speak. 
As  I  sit  in  the  sunshine  on  the  green  hillside,  with  a 
scene  of  beauty  before  me,  I  know  my  God  is  here. 
In  the  grass  at  my  feet ;  in  the  flowering  weed  by  my 
side;  in  the  cricket  singing  under  the  stone  to  my 
right,  and  the  cow  bellowing  for  supper  to  my  left ;  in 
the  barking  dog,  the  cackling  hen,  and  the  croaking 
frogs  over  there — in  it  all  I  see  God  as  much  as  in 

69 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

myself,  fl  All  is  at  peace,  and  there  is  harmony  every- 
where. 

It  were  shameful  heresy  to  accuse  God  by  Nature  of 
thrusting  into  Being  human  forms  of  life  capable  of 
Divinity,  with  all  the  attributes  of  God,  and  then 
brand  them  as  unworthy  of  anything  but  eternal  dam- 
nation. 

With  this  teaching  coming  to  us  from  the  dark  ages 
of  the  past,  and  with  the  thought  hammered  into  man 
by  self-appointed  saint  and  priest,  is  it  any  wonder — 
is  it  at  all  strange — that  man  should  throw  up  his 
hands  and  go  laughingly  to  hell  in  his  dissoluteness? 
This  may  sound  harsh.  It  may  be  bad  orthodoxy.  But 
it  is  the  untarnished  Truth  as  I  feel  Nature  expresses 
it  through  me.  And  my  cry  is  one  of  joy,  for  Nature 
has  unfolded  another  bud  of  expression,  thus  serving 
herself  and  bringing  to  greater  perfection  the  great 
plan  of  the  universe. 

If  A  good  Presbyterian  pastor  once  asked  me :  "If  you 
were  to  teach  a  child  of  spiritual  things,  how  would 
you  do  it:  would  you  recognize  that  child  and  teach 
it  as  a  sinless  being,  or  would  you  teach  it  as  if  it 
were  a  sinful  being?"  My  reply  was  simple :  "I  would 
teach  it  as  if  speaking  to  a  sinless  being." 
jf  All  men  and  women  who  have  had  anything  to  do 
with  training  boys  and  girls  will  bear  me  out  in  this : 
if  you  would  bring  out  the  best  in  a  child  treat  it  as 
if  it  were  good  and  capable  of  better  things.  Treat  a 
child  as  a  sinful  thing  and  he  will  be  sinful.  What  is 
true  of  the  child  is  true  of  the  man.  Let  any  school 
or  society — call  it  church  or  what  you  will— drill  into 

70 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

the  mind  of  man  the  impression  that  he  is  totally 
unworthy;  that  he,  in  contradistinction  to  all  other 
forms  of  life,  is  so  untrue  to  Nature,  or  to  the  Uni- 
versal Life,  that  the  Supreme  Being — the  Power  Over 
All— has  foreordained  his  damnation,  and  what  do  we 
have?  Why,  man,  believing  himself  to  be  lower  in 
the  scale  of  life  than  the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  insects, 
the  birds,  the  creeping  and  swimming  things,  and  even 
the  flowering  and  fruit-bearing  plant  life — for  none  of 
these  has  a  standing  quarrel  with  God— man  deliber- 
ately accepts  the  judgment  passed  upon  him  without  a 
hearing  and  makes  the  most  of  it. 
We  are  taught  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  to  look 
upon  our  Brother  Christ  as  one  whose  infinite  love 
prompted  him  to  give  his  life  for  sins  he  never  did 
commit.  Why,  my  dear  brother,  what  greater  sacri- 
fice did  Jesus  Christ  make  than  that  made  by  hun- 
dreds of  men  who  have  incurred  the  displeasure  of 
the  church  since  his  day?  What  did  he  more  than 
they?  He  was  nailed  to  the  cross,  while  in  the  dark 
days  of  the  Inquisition  men  as  faithful  and  as  heroic 
as  he  were  burned  alive  at  the  stake,  turning  their 
faces  away  from  the  crucifix  held  to  their  lips  by  the 
priests  who  prayed  for  them  and  fired  the  fagots  in  the 
name  of  God. 

Oh,  no;  let  us  not  load  our  minds  with  thoughts  of 
man's  inferiority  to  other  mediums  of  Nature,  or- 
dained by  the  Being  or  Power  we  call  God,  to  express 
more  perfectly  His  infinite  mind,  and  for  the  larger 
unfoldment  of  his  great  love. 
Get  close  to  yourself,  brother,  sister;  see  the  great 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

possibilities  that  lie  within  you.  You  are  not  poor, 
and  miserable!  You  are  the  divinest  thing  made! 
Not  to  be  ever  awhining  at,  and  quarreling  with, 
Nature  and  with  God!  He  will  not  quarrel  with  you. 
Why  should  you  quarrel  with  him? 
Why  should  we  form  ourselves  into  a  society  to  incul- 
cate that  foolish  notion  that  God  is  a  something  far, 
far  away,  and  yet  everywhere,  filling  all  space,  and 
yet  not  in  man?  Why  should  we  leave  to  the  trees, 
the  plants,  the  birds,  the  insects,  the  animals  and  the 
reptiles  the  unfoldment  of  Nature,  while  we,  the 
higher  mediums  for  the  expression  of  Nature's  handi- 
work, debase  ourselves  and  go  about  with  the  cry, 
"Unclean!  Unclean!"  upon  our  lips. 
Think  sinfulness  of  yourself  and  you  will  be  sinful. 
Think  Godliness  of  yourself  and  you  will  act  Godly. 


HEN  you  hear  another  spoken  of  disparagingly 
by  a  crowd  of  men  or  women  you  may  put  it 
down  as  a  sure  thing  that  the  absent  one  has  much 
merit;  for  when  people  are  courageous  enough  to 
bunch  their  opinions  of  him  in  the  other  fellow's 
absence,  he  must  have  many  good  qualities. 

IF  it  were  not  for  the  little  jealousies  and  petty 
strifes  that  pester  life  in  a  small  community,  we 
might  ask  Jesus  to  come  over  and  visit  us. 

72 


DONT  MJESE"*  BABY  WRONG 

"What!     would'st    thou    have    a    serpent 
sting  thee  twice?" 


T  IS  mighty  dangerous  business  to 
nurse  a  wrong — dangerous,  because 
if  we  allow  our  minds  to  dwell  on 
the  evils  our  neighbor  has  done  us, 
we  become  like  him.  It  is  im- 
possible to  rise  higher  than  our 
thoughts.  No  man  is  perfect,  God 
knows;  all  have  faults.  And  yet, 
knowing  this,  it  is  none  the  less 
difficult  to  think  as  much  of  a  man 
after  we  have  discovered  in  him 
some  hidden  weakness  as  we  did 
before.  But  our  true  nobility  is 
shown,  not  in  calling  attention  to 
that  weakness,  but,  rather,  in  draw- 
ing the  curtain  on  the  scene  of 
weakness,  and,  looking  deeper,  dis- 
covering the  good  lying  beneath: 
for  as  sure  as  God  made  man,  there 
is  goodness  in  every  one.  It  is  our 
fault  if  we  fail  to  discover  it.  Isn't 
it  better  for  us  to  seek  diligently  to 
find  what  we  know  ought  to  be 
there,  though  we  may  not  know  at 
the  time  just  where,  than  to  jump  at 
the  fault  that  everybody  can  see  and 
repeat  what  everybody  knows? 
When  I  was  spending  some  years  in 
73 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

the  northern  mining  country,  I  was  impressed  deeply 
by  the  incessant,  hopeful  work  of  the  prospector.  He 
rolls  his  blankets,  and  with  a  skillet,  a  tin  pail,  a  piece 
of  bacon,  some  beans,  flour,  salt  and  pepper  on  his 
back  starts  for  the  hills.  He  never  knows  how  long 
he  will  be  gone,  nor  what  hardships  he  will  encounter 
before  he  returns.  He  only  knows  that  he  is  going  to 
prospect  a  mineral  zone  for  a  ledge  that  carries  pre- 
cious metal — gold,  silver,  copper,  or  galena.  He  knows 
the  formation  is  right ;  knows  the  metal  is  there  some- 
where, and  starts  in  to  find  it.  Others  have  been  over 
the  ground  and  found  nothing.  Perhaps  a  piece  of 
float  has  been  discovered,  but,  after  weeks  of  search- 
ing and  finding  nothing,  they  have  concluded  that  the 
good  piece  was  carried  there  from  some  other  locality 
by  a  glacier  or  landslide,  and  give  up  the  search.  But 
the  man  who  knows  will  not  give  up.  The  prospector 
finds  the  wash  deep,  and  the  float  comes  only  now  and 
then.  For  days  he  digs  about  without  finding  any- 
thing to  give  him  encouragement.  But  he  keeps  dig- 
ging. Over  and  over  the  ground  he  goes.  He  knows 
it  ought  to  be  there :  the  formation  is  true.  But,  alas ; 
for  weeks  and  months  and  sometimes  years  he  seeks 
on.  Then  one  day  when  all  but  discouraged  he  strikes 
his  pick  into  the  ledge  that  opens  in  an  ore-body, 
which  has  been  hidden  from  the  critical  eye  of  man 
for  decades  by  only  a  few  inches  of  surface  wash — 
and  he  is  rich — rich,  indeed! 

We  can  afford  to  take  a  lesson  from  the  life  of  the 
prospector,  in  our  search  for  the  good  in  our  fellow- 
man.  I  think  the  heart  of  every  man  has  a  pay-shoot 

74 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

of  rich  ore  that  would  be  a  blessing  to  humanity,  and 
to  himself,  if  discovered  and  developed.  The  wash 
may  not  be  so  deep  as  the  surface  indicates.  Perhaps 
you  have  missed  it  in  your  brother  by  only  a  few 
inches.  I  have  known  rich  shoots  of  ore  to  be  lost  by 
the  thickness  of  a  layer  of  talc,  and  mines  have  been 
abandoned  as  worthless,  when  only  a  few  inches  to 
right  or  left  of  the  wall  of  the  workings  a  rich  body  of 
ore  was  lying,  waiting  to  be  uncovered,  fl  Look  more 
diligently;  perhaps  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to 
drill  deeper. 

jf  Know  this :  the  formation  is  right — the  ore  ought  to 
be  there ! 


AGE  AND  DEPENDENCE. 

"Without  a  grave,   unknelled,   uncoffined  and  unknown." 
— Byron, 

WHEN  grandpa  gets  old,  and  the  fringe  of  gray 
circling  his  bowed  head  grows  thinner  and  ever 
thinner;  when  the  eyes  become  dim,  the  hearing  faint, 
and  his  step  faltering;  when  the  mind  cannot  grasp 
the  new  or  hold  fast  to  the  old ;  when  ambition,  faith, 
hope  and  love  are  running  low,  and  the  spark  of  Life 
becomes  ever  more  faint;  then  we  realize  as  never 
before  that  without  these  virtues — in  a  word,  without 
youth — man  is,  after  all,  only  a  small  piece  of  misery 
of  few  years  and  little  worth.  Only  a  vitalized  clod — 
a  whimsical,  selfish  thing  without  the  instinct  of  the 

75 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

animal  and  yet  with  insatiable  habits  of  greed  and 
grouch. 

With  old  age  man  falls  back  again  to  the  infant  stage, 
but  cannot  carry  with  him  the  charms  of  babyhood. 
Instead,  having  added  to  his  peevish  nature  the  pas- 
sions and  weaknesses  of  an  indulgent  life,  he  bears 
upon  his  shoulders  the  cross  of  having  lived,  fl  We 
coo  and  coddle  the  child,  but  the  old  man  goes  to  and 
fro,  unhappy,  unnoticed,  unmourned.  He  is  treated 
scornfully  by  the  son,  and  the  aged  mother,  who  all 
but  gave  her  life  for  the  boy,  receives  scant  love.  Oh, 
yes;  I  know.  In  youth  we  forget  that  the  day  will 
come  when  we,  too,  shall  become  old  and  feeble,  and 
in  the  way — and  perhaps  alone.  Then  shall  we,  too, 
ask  the  bread  of  sympathy,  and  receive  a  stone;  then 
shall  we  seek  the  companionship  of  those  we  would 
love,  and,  alas,  find  the  fountain  of  love  closed  to  us. 
Our  passions,  our  whims,  our  fancies,  shall  refuse  to 
down,  because  all  these  years  we  have  failed  to  exer- 
cise love  toward  those  who  needed  our  tenderest 
thought  and  consideration.  Then  shall  we  sorrow  as 
the  old  folks  sorrow  now. 


IT  is  a  common  error  to  accuse  another  of  incon- 
sistence,  or  worse,  when  he  has  the  boldness  to 
do  things  not  in  harmony  with  our  own  way  of  think- 
ing and  doing.    Every  man  has  his  own  way  of  look- 

76 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

ing  at  things — or  should  have — independent  of  what 
others    may    have.      And    our    attitude    toward    any 
accepted  form  of  worship,  or  the  indulgence  of  any 
passion,  depends  on  our  state  of  health  and  the  nature 
of  our  early  training.      The    man    whose    digestive 
apparatus  works  without  causing  pain  and  uneasiness, 
seldom  troubles  himself  about  the  inconsistencies  to 
be  found  in  his  own  life,  or  in  the  lives  of  others.    But 
to  the  man  or  woman  whose  love  is  a  problem  in 
mathematics,   and   whose   soul   a   problem   in   meta- 
physics, no  person  will  appear  consistent  who  ven- 
tures beyond  the  narrow  confines  in  which  the  holy 
one  stews.    But  to  the  man  of  Universal  Love;  whose 
heart,  and  soul  are  attuned  to  the  God  in  Nature,  in 
man,  in  life,  in  death,  in  things  present,  and  things  to 
come — to  him,   all  is   consistency.     There   isn't  any 
inconsistency  when  we  know  all.     To  know  all  is  to 
forgive  all,  for  then  there  is  nothing  to  forgive.    It  is 
a  distressing  thing  when  one  can  see  only  inconsist- 
ency and  sin  in  another's  contrary  opinion.    The  man 
who   does  things  has  no  time  to  waste  in  thinking 
about  consistency,  in  himself  or  his  neighbor.     The 
trouble  with  most  people  who  complain  of  another's 
inconsistency  is  that  they  never  have  experienced  a 
healthy,  full-lunged  inhalation  of  the  Spirit  of  Love. 
Like  the   Jews — the   holy  Jews— of   long  ago,   they 
brand  a  man  a  blasphemer  and  an  evil-doer  because 
he  will  not  stop  in  his  development  until  they  catch 
up.   |f  Nothing  is  totally  bad  that  God  has  made  and 
allows  to  live. 

77 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


PLAYING  AT  VIRTUE. 

"Damn  with  faint  praise,  assent  with  civil  leer, 
And  without  sneering,  teach  the  rest  to  sneer." — Horace. 

WHEN  a  man  confesses  that  he  is  a  thief  and  is 
convicted  of  a  crime,  there  is  no  logical  reason 
why  he  should  be  ostracised  from  society.  The  mere 
fact  of  his  being  a  thief  should  not  preclude  the  con- 
sideration of  his  other  qualities.  When  we  know  a 
man  as  a  doctor,  or  a  minister,  or  a  carpenter,  or  an 
artist  we  do  not  stop  at  that.  We  admit  that  he  may 
also  be  a  violinist,  or  a  singer,  or  a  poet,  and  we  credit 
him  accordingly.  And  so,  if  the  world  condemns  you 
for  being  a  thief  it  should  at  the  same  time  admire  you 
for  being  a  genius.  If  it  fails  to  admire  you  for  one 
thing  it  has  no  right  to  condemn  you  for  another. 
We  hear  the  man  or  woman  condemned  for  some  small 
act  of  indiscretion  that  amounts  to  very  little.  In  a 
moment  of  weakness  he  or  she  of  our  acquaintance 
commits  an  act  against  the  established  laws  of 
society,  or  what  we  consider  to  be  right  and  wrong, 
and  at  once  we  are  prepared  to  shy  a  stone  and  cry, 
begone!  Blinded  by  prejudice,  we  will  not  consider 
his  or  her  many  good  qualities,  but  center  our  whole 
gaze  upon  the  one  act  of  folly  or  weakness  and  mag- 
nify it  many  times.  Then  we  take  the  brush  from  the 
pot  of  passion  and  paint  in  letters  of  red  the  judgment 
of  the  damned  over  the  humble  cottage  door.  And 
think,  ye  Gods !  that  we  have  done  our  duty ! 

78 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Who  gave  to  us  to  be  judge  of  another?  Who  gave 
to  us  to  say  what  is  sin  in  anyone  but  ourselves?  All 
men  and  all  women  are  more  or  less  of  a  sham.  As  we 
look  upon  them  we  do  not  see  the  real  person.  We 
see  them  as  we  think  they  are.  At  heart  all  are  sin- 
cere; we  cannot  escape  that  fact.  And  yet,  I  play  at 
virtue  just  as  you  do,  and  all  the  while  entertain  lust- 
ful desires.  Fain  would  I  lift  my  soul  into  the  Realm 
of  Day,  but  prone  am  I  to  nestle  in  the  passionate 
embrace  of  Indulgent  Night.  We  condemn  readily, 
not  that  we  feel  any  real  injury  because  of  the  offense, 
or  that  condemnation  is  necessary,  but  because  it  is 
fashionable.  And  we  do  it  as  if  we  had  a  right ! 
We  do  not  seek  to  see  the  goodness  in  others  as  we 
ought.  Nor  do  we  show  to  others  the  goodness  that 
is  in  ourselves.  Our  Inner  Life  seldom  is  brought  in 
contact  with  the  Inner  Life  of  the  man  by  our  side. 
Beneath  this  life  of  sham  we  hide  the  Real,  and,  I  do 
not  know,  but  I  believe,  that  that  Real  is  God. 


1  WOULD  rather  know  that  I  have  the  confidence 
of  one  friend  who  understands  me,  than  be  pes- 
tered  by   the    applause    of   the   multitude,   who   are 
tickled  today,   plucked  tomorrow,   and   damned  the 
next  day. 

79 


"The  fools  who  came  to  scoff  remained  to 
pray. ' ' — Goldsmith. 


HIS  world  is  full  of  incongruities. 
When  we  think  we  have  found  the 
correct  thing  and  begin  to  pride  our- 
selves on  having  at  last  made  a  dis- 
covery, we  soon  are  disappointed  on 
finding  that  what  we  believed  was 
new  and  nearly  perfect  has  many 
unsatisfying  features  about  it,  and 
is  really  not  new  at  all,  but  quite 
old.  We  find  real  satisfaction  in 
one  thing  only,  and  that  one  thing 
is  in  Being  Natural — living  as 
though  there  were  nothing  new 
under  the  sun,  and  in  the  knowledge 
that  to  know  one's  self  is  to  know 
mankind. 

The  all  important  thing  for  a  man 
is,  first,  to  make  sure  of  growth. 
This  is  not  so  easy,  for  it  is  natural 
for  us  to  be  somewhat  anxious  to 
know  that  our  conduct  is  in  correct 
keeping  with  the  common  verdict  of 
what  is  just  proper.  We  are  slow 
to  perceive  that  advancement  means 
initiative,  and  are  prone  to  cling  to 
the  old  order  of  things,  because  in 
this  there  is  less  friction.  We  are 
much  concerned  lest  Sarah  Jane  or 
80 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Father  Church  should  think  we  are  inconsistent 
should  we  follow  the  dictates  of  the  heart,  and  go 
contrary  to  what  Sarah  Jane  or  Father  Church  has 
considered  the  proper  thing  for  us  to  do.  Thus  we 
leave  many  things  undone  that  we  ought  to  have  done, 
and  oft-times  go  contrary  to  the  heart's  desire  for  fear 
of  what  Sarah  Jane  or  Father  Church  might  think  of 
us.  And  in  so  doing  we  please  them  greatly  and 
remain  quite  orthodox.  And  that  is  all. 
If  Orthodoxy  is  defined  as  "soundness  in  opinion  and 
doctrine."  But  to  be  orthodox  does  not  mean  to  be 
sound  in  opinion  and  doctrine.  It  means  to  be  sound 
on  what  is  at  the  time  considered  to  be  sound  opinion 
and  doctrine.  But  yesterday's  heresy  is  today's  ortho- 
doxy. 

When  Bruno  went  contrary  to  the  established  beliefs 
in  his  astronomical  findings,  orthodoxy  came  forward 
and  burned  him  alive.  When  Capernicus  advanced 
his  views  about  the  movement  of  the  earth  and  stars 
around  the  sun,  he  delayed  publishing  his  findings  for 
twelve  years  owing  to  his  fear  of  the  unpopularity 
which  the  work  threatened  to  bring  him,  it  being  so 
unorthodox.  Owing  to  the  heretical  nature  of  Galileo's 
scientific  discoveries  he  was  imprisoned  and  perse- 
cuted by  orthodoxy,  fl  Thus  it  ever  has  been  and  ever 
will  be.  The  man  who  is  courageous  enough  to  step 
out  and  away  from  the  orthodox  way  of  thinking  must 
ever  run  the  gauntlet  of  abuse  from  those  who  insist 
that  he  is  heretical.  Galileo  said,  "I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that  the  intention  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  is 
to  give  to  mankind  the  information  necessary  for  their 

81 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

salvation.  But  I  do  not  hold  it  necessary  to  believe 
that  the  same  God  who  has  endowed  us  with  senses, 
with  speech,  with  intellect,  intended  that  we  should 
neglect  the  use  of  these,  and  seek  by  other  means  for 
knowledge  which  these  are  sufficient  to  procure  for 
us."  ft  And  because  he  said  things  like  this  he  was 
denounced  as  "atheist"  and  "infidel,"  epithets,  by  the 
way,  "which  do  not  frighten  us  much  now,  since  they 
have  been  applied  to  most  of  the  really  great  and  good 
men  who  have  ever  lived."  Pope  Paul  V.  had  Galileo 
thrown  into  a  dungeon  because  he  would  not  disavow 
that  the  earth  revolved  around  the  sun. 
When  Charles  Darwin  advanced  his  theory  of  evolu- 
tion, he  was  reviled  by  bigots,  and  ridiculed  by  all  the 
world;  but  he  lived  to  see  it  irrefragably  established 
in  science  and  inseparably  incorporated  into  the  com- 
mon thoughts  of  men.  When  his  "Origin  of  Species" 
was  published,  and  the  tongue  of  orthodoxy  had  been 
set  wagging,  Samuel  Wilberforce,  Bishop  of  Oxford, 
in  the  course  of  a  speech  on  another  subject  in  Lon- 
don, denounced  "those  enemies  of  the  Church  and 
Society  who  make  covert  attacks  upon  the  Bible  in 
the  name  of  Science."  Toward  the  close  of  his  re- 
marks he  happened  to  spy  Huxley,  the  deep  thinker  of 
England,  seated  in  the  audience,  and,  pointing  his 
finger  at  him  "begged  to  be  informed  if  the  learned 
gentleman  was  really  willing  to  be  regarded  as  the 
descendant  of  a  monkey?"  ft  The  audience  insisted  on 
hearing  Huxley  when  the  Bishop  ceased  to  speak,  and 
the  greatest  scientist  of  the  age  came  forward.  Huxley 
lacked  the  exuberance  that  characterized  the  florid 

82 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

speech  of  the  Bishop,  but  he  knew  his  theme  and  the 
Bishop  did  not.  He  demolished  the  Bishop's  card 
house  point  by  point,  correcting  his  gross  misstate- 
ments,  and  ending  by  saying  that  "since  a  question  of 
personal  preferences  had  been  brought  into  the  dis- 
cussion of  a  great  scientific  theme,  he  would  confess 
that  if  the  alternative  were  a  descent  on  the  one  hand 
from  a  respectable  monkey,  or  on  the  other  hand  from 
a  Bishop  of  the  Church  of  England  who  could  stoop 
to  misrepresentation  and  sophistry,  and  who  had 
attempted  in  that  presence  to  throw  discredit  upon  a 
man  who  had  given  his  life  to  the  cause  of  science, 
then  if  forced  to  decide  he  would  declare  in  favor  of 
the  monkey."  In  so  saying  Sir  Thomas  H.  Huxley 
was  unorthodox,  but  he  was  right,  fl  Whatever  we 
may  think  of  Charles  Darwin's  theory  of  the  "Origin 
of  Species,"  we  may  know  this,  that  he  was  a  man 
infinitely  superior  in  intellect  and  learning,  and  also 
in  heart,  to  the  exponents  of  bigotry  who,  like  the 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  reviled  and  abused  him.  Charles 
Darwin  was  big  enough  to  say  this:  "I  feel  most 
deeply  that  this  whole  question  of  creation  is  too  pro- 
found for  human  intellect.  A  dog  might  as  well  specu- 
late on  the  mind  of  Newton.  Let  each  man  hope  and 
believe  what  he  can." 

All  things  are  pure  and  consistent  to  the  man  who  is 
big  enough  to  break  away  from  the  confines  of  what 
we  term  orthodoxy,  and  is  not  shackled  by  prudery 
and  bigotry.  But  let  a  man  adopt  this  principle  in 
his  daily  social  and  business  life,  that  he  will  walk 
with  no  other  guide  than  his  God,  and  he  will  find 

83 


s^P1 
'4?oH*trt 


-AL.F 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

that  his  conduct  will  not  be  in  accord  with  orthodoxy. 
The  first  stone  that  is  thrown  at  him  will  come  from 
the  Amen  corner.  Let  a  man  take  God  into  his  busi- 
ness as  familiarly  as  he  takes  the  hand  of  a  friend ;  let 
him  feel  that  his  bedchamber  is  as  holy  as  the  pulpit, 
and  that  the  most  menial  service  is  as  important  as 
preaching  the  gospel,  and  his  bishop,  like  the  Bishop 
of  Oxford,  will  fling  at  him  his  shaft  of  ridicule. 


HEN  we  feel  that  our's  is  a  hard  lot,  it  is  well 
to  remember  this:  If  the  man  Jesus  had  been 
given  a  fine  home,  where  he  would  be  pampered  and 
waited  upon,  he  would  not  have  got  close  enough  to 
the  heart  of  the  world  to  have  become  its  savior. 


IT  is  easier  to  damn  than  to  forgive;  and  since 
"man  makes  God  in  his  own  image,"  he  teaches, 
and  is  more  ready  to  believe,  that  God  has  chosen  the 
lesser  virtue  rather  than  exercise  the  greater. 


7ft  HEN  we  move  close  to  nature,  we  throw  off  the 
^^^  frills  and  foibles  that  man  has  added  as  neces- 
sities to  life,  and  become  kings  of  that  simple  life  that 
the  world  thinks  is  greatness. 


THE  EMPTINESS"*  SACRIFICE 

"I    have    not    loved    the    world,    nor    the 
world   me." — Byron. 


T  always  gives  me  a  pang  of  sorrow 
when  I  hear  good  men  tell  of  the 
"sacrifice"  this  one  made  for  that 
one,  but  much  more  when  I  hear 
from  pulpit  and  press  the  wail  about 
the  "sacrifice"  made  by  Jesus  Christ 
for  his  brother  man.  To  think  that 
man  should  be  so  blinded  by  custom 
as  to  delude  himself  into  believing 
that  service  means  sacrifice,  is  to  me 
the  most  sorrowful  thing.  I  once 
heard  an  eminent  Presbyterian  di- 
vine preach  a  sermon  on  the  terrors 
of  a  Christian  life.  He  went  on  to 
say  that  from  the  cradle  of  what  he 
characterized  as  man's  second  birth, 
to  the  grave,  the  Christian's  life  was 
one  continuous  line  of  trial  and  trib- 
ulation, sacrifice  and  disappoint- 
ment, and  in  the  end,  the  faithful 
scarcely  are  saved!  In  the  face  of 
an  optimism  that  makes  man  in  the 
image  of  his  God,  we  have  this  pes- 
simism that  makes  him  a  slave  not 
worth  saving.  And  we  cannot  but 
wonder  that  two  sincere  men  can 
hold  such  divergent  views.  But  they 
do.  And  one  is  as  honest  and  ear- 
85 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

nest  in  seeking  to  know  the  Truth  as  the  other. 
But  let  us  see  for  ourselves.  What  has  your  expe- 
rience been?  What  has  been  the  experience  of  those 
faithful  souls  we  all  have  met  whose  lives  have  been, 
and  are  being  spent  practically  in  the  service  of  hu- 
manity? "My  yoke  is  easy,  my  burden  light,"  said 
He,  the  Prince  of  Saviors ;  and  thus  other  saviors  com- 
ing after  Him  have  also  spoken.  Why,  then,  do  we 
insist  on  making  the  yoke  grievous  and  the  burden 
heavy?  All  is  gain;  all  is  joy;  when  we  live  a  natural 
life  amongst  our  fellows.  To  act  justly  and  with 
mercy,  doing  our  duty  daily  because  it  is  our  duty,  is 
better  than  sacrifice. 

Take  the  testimony  of  those  men  and  women  the  world 
over,  whose  lives  have  been  a  practical  exemplifica- 
tion of  the  principles  of  brotherly  love,  and  whose 
object  in  life  is  to  serve  mankind;  do  they  tell  of  la- 
borious days  of  sacrifice  and  sorrow?  Do  they  com- 
plain of  what  it  has  cost  them?  Not  at  all.  Theirs 
is  one  long,  happy  experience  of  service,  and  there- 
fore of  unfoldment  and  love.  They  never  know  the 
meaning  of  the  word  sacrifice — those  manly  men  and 
womanly  women.  Every  moment,  every  hour,  every 
day,  they  live  quietly,  joyfully,  sincerely, — always 
ready  to  act  in  the  service  of  their  fellows, — no  pining 
for  something  better;  no  room,  no  desire,  for  more 
joy;  no  thought  of  reward,  here  or  hereafter.  They 
seek  to  serve,  that  is  all.  And  their  reward  is  in  hav- 
ing done  something  for  another,  fl  The  teaching  that 
service  means  sacrifice  is  a  curse  that  came  with  the 
law  about  the  time  of  Moses,  and  which  mankind  has 

86 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

not  yet  outgrown.  To  grow  we  must  serve.  When 
we  feel  that  we  are  sacrificing  something  in  order  to 
serve  another,  it  is  time  we  sought  to  get  the  devil 
selfishness  out  of  us.  The  Man  Jesus  sacrificed  noth- 
ing when  he  gave  his  life  upon  the  tree!  It  was  the 
only  way  left  for  him  to  demonstrate  his  love  for  man- 
kind, and  He  gained  as  much  as  we  in  the  exercise  of 
that  love.  The  lover  always  is  the  winner,  whether 
his  love  is  reciprocated  or  not.  If  I  love  you,  I  gain 
more  by  giving  expression  to  my  love  than  you  do  in 
being  loved  by  me.  We  never  can  love  another  while 
we  hold  within  us  anything  of  Self-ish-ness.  A  heart 
big  enough  to  push  the  oceans  out  of  their  beds  would 
not  be  big  enough  to  hold  love  of  self  and  love  for 
another  at  the  same  time.  And  so,  when  we  have  self 
love  we  shall  not  have  the  desire  to  serve,  therefore, 
what  we  do  for  our  fellows  will  be  done  with  the  hand 
out  behind. 

But  how  differently  the  thought  of  service  comes  to 
the  man  who  can  forget  himself  in  the  transaction, 
whatever  it  be,  and  does  the  thing  because  it  helps 
others  to  get  it  done.  U  I  do  not  know  of  a  more 
striking  example  of  the  indwelling  of  this  Universal 
Love,  than  that  which  was  found  in  the  life  of  Henry 
Clay  Trumble,  who  was  known  for  many  brilliant 
achievements :  in  the  field  of  letters,  of  exploration,  of 
research;  as  an  army  chaplain,  as  a  public  speaker  of 
national  prominence ;  thirty  years  an  editor  and  writer, 
whose  name  is  a  household  word  in  three  continents. 
In  a  personal  letter  written  two  years  before  his  death 
to  a  friend  whom  he  had  helped  by  his  kind  counsel 

87 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  penetrating  inquiries,  he  said:  "You  know  I  am 
just  now,  and  for  about  two  years  have  been  a  'Shut- 
in/  unable  to  move  without  assistance;  but  it  is  good 
to  feel  that  God  enables  me  still  to  do  something  in 
his  service  for  others.  I  have  published  two  little 
books  from  this  room,  and  I  have  two  or  three  more 
that  I  hope  will  be  of  service.  I  could  not  have  done 
this,  had  I  been  able  to  do  my  usual  work  in  my 
office." 

The  friend  did  not  know  up  to  the  time  of  the  receipt 
of  that  letter  that  Mr.  Trumble  was  a  "shut-in,"  un- 
able to  move  without  assistance,  although  he  had  been 
favored  by  Mr.  Trumble  with  his  earnest,  thoughtful 
personal  letters  once  or  twice  a  month  for  more  than 
two  years.  In  all  his  letters  there  was  that  charm 
of  unselfishness,  coupled  with  a  deep,  abiding  faith  in 
his  fellows,  and  a  burning  desire  to  serve;  but  never 
one  word  about  his  own  condition,  and  not  the  inkling 
of  a  thought  about  sacrifice.  It  was  all  joyous  service 
— because  his  heart  was  in  his  work. 


DON'T  be  a  skimmer !    Get  into  the  heart  of  things. 
It's  the  digging  and  delving  that  develops  a  man. 
Ease  has  killed  more  men  than  effort. 

rHERE  won't  be  any  shadows  to   frighten   you, 
Sweetheart,  if  your  face  is  toward  the  Sun. 

88 


AS  AMAN  THINKETH 

"There  is  no  man  suddenly  either  excel- 
lently good,  or  extremely  evil." — Sir  Philip 
Sidney. 


HE  suspicious  man  is  a  slave  of  what 
we  call  the  devil.  He  suspects  every 
man  of  entertaining  an  evil  motive ; 
believes  no  man  is  sincere ;  and  con- 
siders that  every  man  has  his  price. 
Such  a  person  is  to  be  pitied.  For- 
tunately he  is  greatly  in  the  minor- 
ity. He  is  one  that  has  narrowed  life 
down  to  the  four  walls  of  a  hog's 
pen.  Manhood  to  him  is  an  un- 
known quantity.  He  believes  that 
trickery  and  deceit  are  the  stock  and 
trade  of  all  men,  and  in  order  to 
protect  himself  against  the  duplicity 
of  his  fellows,  he  thinks  he  must 
keep  himself  in  that  attitude  of  sus- 
picion that  holds  him  away  from  the 
blessings  that  come  through  enter- 
taining thoughts  of  fellowship  and 
trustfulness  towards  others. 
I  believe  there  is  much  of  God  in 
every  man — and  some  of  the  devil, 
too.  But  I  believe  the  God  in  man 
has  the  supremacy,  for  all  the  world 
is  God,  and  God  is  therefore  all 
powerful;  whereas,  the  devil  gets 
there  by  growth  of  our  indulgences, 
which  may  be  overcome  by  chang- 
89 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

ing  one's  Ideal,  and  by  switching  from  evil  practices  to 
helpful  practices. 

There  is  no  trait  of  the  devil  so  subtile  and  so  sure  of 
results  as  that  to  be  found  in  the  suspicious  man  or 
woman.  "We  awaken  in  others  the  same  attitude  of 
mind  we  hold  towards  them."  We  see  ourselves  re- 
flected in  them.  If  our  eye  is  evil  we  will  see  evil  in 
all  things.  No  matter  how  innocent  the  action  of  an- 
other may  be;  no  matter  how  honest  and  sincere  the 
motive ;  if  we  have  occasion  to  rub  up  against  the  sus- 
picious man,  either  in  business  or  social  life,  we  will 
find  our  veracity  doubted  and  our  sincerity  questioned. 
Pity  it  is  that  it  is  so.  Not  that  Truth  is  ever  injured 
by  the  conduct  of  the  suspicious  man,  for  that  cannot 
be.  Truth  will  live  in  spite  of  every  suspicion,  no  mat- 
ter in  whom  it  is  found;  the  utterances  of 
any  Jackanape  or  society  of  Jackanapes  cannot  disturb 
it.  "The  wild  thyme  is  itself,  nor  asks  consent  of  rose 
nor  reed."  But  what  I  hold  true  is  this :  When  Truth 
is  doubted;  when  it  is  reviled;  there  is  occasion  for 
pity,  for  then  she  turns  away,  and  bestows  upon  an- 
other the  blessing  she  had  for  you  and  me.  In  the 
transaction  we  lose ;  Truth  does  not. 
The  man  who  is  least  suspicious  of  others,  and  I 
think  this  holds  true  of  woman  also,  will  be  found  the 
most  worthy  himself.  He  has  been  through  the  dark- 
ness ;  he  has  lived ;  he  knows.  He  has  learned  to  trust 
others  by  being  taught  to  trust  himself.  f[  He  has  had 
faith;  that  is  it.  He  has  exercised  it  in  himself,  and 
in  others.  Faith  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  friendship,  all 
learning,  all  wisdom,  and  all  success.  When  we  lose 

90 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

faith  in  a  friend,  we  suffer,  for  in  our  exercise  of  faith 
we  gain  more  than  the  one  in  whom  the  faith  is  exer- 
cised. When  a  man  loses  his  faith  in  learning  and 
wisdom;  in  his  fellows  and  in  himself;  he  is  the  great 
loser.  Faith  is  the  outgrowth  of  the  noblest  that  is 
in  us.  Without  faith  man  is  not  a  whit  higher  than 
the  hog.  With  it — in  abundance — he  is  only  a  step 
below  God.  Thus  we  see,  how  great  the  privilege  that 
is  ours,  and  how  great  the  responsibility. 
The  fault-finding  individual  may  be  absolutely  sincere 
and  of  kind  disposition.  He  simply  exhibits  a  lack  of 
faith.  If  it  isn't  in  the  town  he  lives  in  it  is  in  the 
house.  If  not  in  the  house  then  in  the  neighbors.  If 
not  in  the  neighbors,  then  in  the  government.  If  not 
in  the  government,  then  in  himself.  He  sees  things 
through  an  evil  eye. 


WHAT  BUZZ-SAWS  DO 

"Let  us  do,   or  die." — Burns* 

WHAT  a  pity;  and  yet  how  natural  that  it  is  so! 
The  man  who  bumps  into  a  buzz-saw,  blames 
the  buzz-saw  for  cutting  him. 

|f  Here  is  a  thought  for  you  to  carry  home :  If  you 
don't  like  to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  a  buzz-saw,  keep  out 
of  the  buzz-saw's  way.  It  is  not  an  original  thought, 
but  how  slow  you  and  I  are  to  take  it  to  ourselves. 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

The  buzz-saw  has  its  business,  which  is  to  cut  things. 
If  it  is  strong,  and  sharp  and  slick  and  clean  it  makes 
a  clean  cut.  If  it  is  dull  and  rusty  and  wabbles  in  its 
center,  it  makes  trouble,  and  men  curse  it.  fl  True, 
men  curse  it,  too,  when  they  get  hit  by  it,  though  it  do 
good  work,  but  only  those  who  have  got  in  its  way. 
Note  this:  the  buzz-saw  does  not  reach  out  after 
trouble.  It  simply  is,  and  because  it  is,  men,  when 
they  get  tired  quarreling  with  themselves,  quarrel  with 
it.  No  buzz-saw  can  be  a  buzz-saw  and  not  cut. 
When  it  fails  to  cut,  it  is  thrown  into  the  scrap  pile  and 
sold  for  old  iron.  This  is  what  we  get  out  of  it :  Each 
man  is  born  to  go  through  life  and  carry  with  him  his 
own  personality.  He  may  be  "peculiar,"  as  others  see 
him,  but  let  him  be  true  to  himself — his  character — 
and  everything  about  him  will  be  symmetrical,  har- 
monious. Whatever  he  is  engaged  in  will  bear  the 
stamp  of  his  personality — the  very  man  himself 
breathes  in  and  through  his  work.  His  joys,  his  sor- 
rows, his  aims  and  ambitions ;  his  heart,  his  soul,  will 
speak  to  you  in  what  he  does.  He  lives  one  moment 
at  a  time ;  whether  you  find  him  in  light  or  in  shadow, 
in  toil  or  at  ease,  he  is  the  same  man.  Thus  are  all 
men  when  they  are  filling  the  Divine  purpose. 
fl  But  take  that  man  of  strong  personality,  and  let  him 
hide  himself  under  the  cloak  of  popular  custom;  let 
him  suppress  his  "peculiarities,"  and  think,  and  say, 
and  do,  and  be,  just  what  would  most  please  his 
friends;  and,  presto!  What  is  it  now!  Why,  just  a 
hand-me-down — a  piece  of  man  for  the  scrap  pile — 
something  to  be  discarded  because  it  has  failed  to  do 

92 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

its  work.  The  personality  is  gone,  leaving  only  the 
man  animal  remaining — the  God  is  out  of  him. 
I  do  not  know :  I  may  be  mistaken.  According  to  the 
orthodox  way  of  thinking,  I  am  mistaken:  but  it  al- 
ways has  seemed  to  me,  even  from  early  childhood, 
that  the  wrong  conception  has  been  placed  upon  man's 
privilege  in  relation  to  what  we  call  his  religion.  The 
tendency  of  orthodoxy  is  to  shape  all  men  in  the  same 
mould:  to  make  them  think  alike,  pray  alike,  praise 
alike,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  appear  alike.  Men  con- 
duct themselves  about  as  they  please  during  "busi- 
ness" hours,  but  so  long  as  they  are  regular  attendants 
at  "Divine"  service  they  are  considered  "solid"  on  re- 
ligious matters.  We  hear  men  talk  of  their  business 
and  their  work  as  if  their  occupation  were  something 
separate  and  apart,  and  altogether  distinct  from  their 
religion.  Yes,  and  do  you  know,  I  have  heard  some 
surprisingly  good  people  say  of  this  one  or  that :  "Mr. 
So-and-So  is  so  engrossed  in  his  business  that  he  never 
can  find  time  to  do  this,  that  or  the  other  thing" — 
some  "religious  service,"  for  instance.  As  if  his  re- 
ligion and  his  work  were  two  distinct  things,  demand- 
ing the  exercise  of  different  qualities  of  his  nature! 
Now,  listen,  dear  heart,  I  would  not  say  a  word  to 
cause  a  brother  or  sister  to  lose  ever  so  small  a  par- 
ticle of  faith  in  any  belief  that  has  given  comfort  to 
the  soul,  but  did  you  never  think  how  absurd  it  is  to 
suppose  that  a  man  is  going  to  win  his  paradise  in 
some  way  distinct  and  apart  from  the  service  he  ren- 
ders to  humanity.  And  that  service  must  be  in  giving 
expression  to  his  Divine  personality. 

93 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


IF  I  SHOULD  DIE  TONIGHT 


"Here  Skugg  lies, 

as  a  bug  in  a  rug." — Franklin. 


OING  home  to  die!"  How  blessed  the  thought, 
and  yet  with  it  there  comes  a  tinge  of  sorrow, 
even  to  the  happiest  of  us.  But  why  the  sorrow?  fl  Oh, 
the  peace  that  will  come  to  the  heart,  so  tattered  and 
torn  by  the  storms  of  life,  and  the  body  racked  with 
pain ;  the  shoulders  stooped  from  carrying  the  burdens 
of  this  dear  old  work-a-day  world ! 
Going  home  to  die,  did  you  say?  God  speed  you! 
The  doors  are  open  to  receive  you,  and  there  in  a  shady 
nook  the  old  arm  chair  awaits  you,  pillowed  with  in- 
numerable cushions,  soft  and  rose-scented;  and  by  its 
side  a  little  chair  for  mother.  Going  home!  Ah,  who 
would  stay  away?  And  die!  Why  not?  'Tis  but  a  step 
forward — out  into  the  valley  where  all  titles  are 
snuffed,  and  we  travel  on  the  passport  of  life's  deeds ; 
wending  our  way  to  the  New  Jerusalem.  A  tear! 
What's  that  for?  At  parting!  Who  said  we  would  part? 
Yes,  yes ;  we  may  never  meet  again  in  these  old  hulks 
of  ours :  I  may  not  hear  your  voice,  and  look  into  those 
weary  eyes ;  I  may  not  feel  the  pressure  of  your  hand ; 
but  what  does  that  matter?  I  know  you  will  be  there, 
somewhere,  and  where  you  are,  there  shall  I  be  also. 
We  can  be  closer  then  e'en  than  now;  yes,  much 
closer. 

Then  why  those  tears?  'Tis  harder,  and  the  responsi- 
bility is  greater,  to  live  today  as  I  ought  to  live  than 
die.  To  die  is  nothing ;  to  live  is  all.  I  go  to  my  bed 

94 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  sleep:  a  dream  comes  over  me,  and  I  am  trans- 
ported from  this  world  to  fairy  land.  I  walk  and 
talk  to  others — they  talk  and  walk  with  me.  My  body 
and  senses  are  dead ;  perhaps  as  dead  as  they  ever  shall 
be — who  knows  ?  There  is  no  pain ;  I  do  not  have  any 
fear.  After  a  time  I  go  back  into  this  old  hulk;  con- 
sciousness returns,  and  I  awake  to  begin  anew  the 
duties  of  life. 

Some  day  I  shall  steal  away  from  this  body  of  mine 
and  will  walk  and  talk  to  others;  they  will  talk  and 
walk  with  me ;  and  I  shall  be  so  happy  I  will  not  come 
back.  Then  they  will  say,  "He's  dead."  And  friends 
will  be  mournful  and  sad,  and  enemies  cheerful  and 
glad;  and  just  over  there  where  the  flowers  are  most 
beautiful  and  fragrant,  and  the  birds  sing  sweetest,  I 
will  be  doing  the  thing  I  ought  to  do,  and  praising 
God! 


F 


THE  CARPENTER'S  SON 

"There   was   a   laughing   devil  in  his   sneer." — The  Corsair. 

IND  a  man  who  thinks  alone — who  forgets  him- 
self and  strives  only  to  do  the  thing  as  nearly 
right  as  it  can  be  done — who  is  ready  to  sacrifice  him- 
self and  all  that  he  has,  or  is  to  have,  in  order  to  do 
it — find  him,  I  say,  and  you  have  found  a  genius.  Look 
him  over  carefully.  Perhaps  he  is  a  very  good  fellow ; 
perhaps  genial;  but  surely  just  an  ordinary  man.  He 
may  wear  a  blue  rough  shirt,  with  sleeves  rolled  up  to 

95 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

the  elbows.  It  little  matters.  When  you  have  found 
him,  and  satisfied  yourself  that  you  have  seen  many  a 
man  finer  looking  than  he ;  that  he  isn't  such  an  extraor- 
dinary individual  after  all;  just  shut  your  eyes  a 
minute.  Now  open  them  again !  The  man  is  gone,  and 
in  his  stead  before  you  stand  his  defamers.  They  al- 
ways follow  close  at  his  heels.  They,  like  yourself, 
have  also  been  disappointed  in  his  appearance.  They 
expected  to  see  a  show,  not  the  genius ;  forgetting  that 
to  see  a  genius  one  must  be  a  genius.  They,  like  you, 
again,  are  struck  with  wonder  that  a  genius  could  look 
so  common,  and  the  cry  goes  up :  "Isn't  this  the  car- 
penter's son?"  and  at  once  the  crown  of  thorns  is  cut 
for  him. 


IF  you  have  made  up  your  mind  that  you  are  not 
going  to  reach  heaven  until  Death  calls,  you  will 
search  a  long  while  for  it. 

HEN  we  condemn  a  man  unheard  we  do  our- 
selves  a  great  injustice,  in  that  we  blind  our- 
selves to  his  virtues. 


M 


ANY  a  man  has  got  a  hard  fall  from  standing  on 
so  thin  a  thing  as  his  dignity. 


)T  is  no  sin  to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  female  love- 
liness— if  you  do  not  make  it  so. 


CROWDING^ETOTEM  POLE 

"He  was  a  man 

Who  stole  the  livery  of  the  court  of  Heaven 
To  serve  the  devil  in." — Pollock. 


HAVE  said  before,  and  I  will  here 
repeat,  that  it  is  psychologically  im- 
possible for  a  person  to  grow  in 
knowledge  so  long  as  he  clings  to 
the  false  notion  that  he  is  too  stupid 
to  learn.  The  boy  and  girl  who  leads 
the  class  in  school  is  not  the  one 
who  comes  regularly  before  the 
teacher  with  the  plea,  "I  can't."  No 
man  ever  accomplished  anything 
worthy  in  business,  learning  or  art, 
with  the  stamp  of  inability  upon 
him.  No  progress  can  be  made  until 
we  lose  sight  of  our  defects  and 
come  into  the  knowledge  that  we 
can  do  things.  Confidence,  whether 
in  the  school  room  or  the  counting 
room,  is  the  power  that  makes  for 
progress  and  development.  I  CAN 
bottoms  all  physical  and  mental 
growth.  It  is,  indeed,  the  secret  of 
all  growth,  whether  moral,  physical, 
mental  or  spiritual. 
To  teach  the  child  at  its  mother's 
knee  that  it  is  sinful,  and  to  follow 
this  thought  on  through  life,  is  the 
greatest  curse  that  humanity  has  af- 
flicted upon  itself.  The  belief  be- 
97 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

comes  a  habit,  and  all  through  life  harasses  the  man- 
hood of  the  race.  Impressing  upon  the  plastic  child 
mind  that  it  is  a  miserable  object  of  God's  mercy ;  that 
it  is  habitually  doing  the  things  it  ought  not  to  have 
done,  and  leaving  undone  the  things  it  ought  to  have 
done,  and  that  there  is  no  help  in  it,  is  downright 
cruelty.  Such  a  crude  notion  about  man's  soul  un- 
foldment  is  painful  to  witness. 

I  remember  one  day  at  a  little  Sunday-school  service 
in  a  mining  camp,  a  minister  of  the  Established  Church 
was  present,  and  the  simple-hearted  superintendent 
called  upon  him  to  lead  the  school  in  prayer.  The 
unfortunate  man  did  not  have  his  prayer  book  with 
him,  and  was  lost  to  know  what  to  pray  for.  He 
mumbled  a  jumble  of  words,  and  closed  with  a  loud 
"A-h-men."  At  the  close  of  the  service  the  parson 
warned  the  superintendent  never  to  ask  him  to  offer 
prayer  again  when  he  did  not  have  his  prayer-book 
along.  The  warning  was  quite  unnecessary,  for  there 
was  not  a  ten-year-old  boy  or  girl  in  the  school  that 
could  not  have  spoken  the  feelings  of  the  heart  more 
freely  to  the  worshipful  God  than  did  that  priest,  who 
was  supposed  to  "lead"  the  flock. 

|f  When  men  are  brought  up  in  the  belief  that  service 
is  a  matter  of  sound  and  symbols,  rather  than  of  feel- 
ing and  doing,  and  are  taught  from  early  childhood 
that  spiritual  growth  is  measured  by  one's  glibness 
in  mumbling  the  prayers  prepared  by  priests  of 
rhetorical  tongue  and  steel  heart,  they  are  drawing 
dangerously  near  the  fig  leaf  period  and  crowding 
close  the  totem  pole. 

98 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 


AT  THE  BECK  OF  FASHION 

"And  the  Devil  did  grin,  for  his  darling  Bin 
Is  pride  that  apes  humility." — Coleridge. 

HOW  prone  men  are — and  women  too  — to  do 
things  it  is  considered  "proper."  Dame  Fashion 
decrees  that  the  waist  shall  assume  a  wasplike  slen- 
derness,  and  on  goes  the  corset.  Custom  tells  man  it 
is  quite  the  thing  to  sip  the  booze  and  suck  the  amber 
and  up  goes  the  whisky  and  tobacco  bill. 
If  allowed  freedom  of  thought  and  action — I  was  go- 
ing to  say  that — but  it  is  hazardous  to  say  what 
woman  would  do.  She  might  and  she  might  not.  I  do 
not  know.  But,  giving  her  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  it  is 
probable  she  would  not  go  to  the  extreme  that  fashion 
demands.  She  does  not  do  so  because  she  enjoys  it. 
She  does  so  to  be  like  others.  Men  do  not  saturate 
themselves  with  alcohol  and  nicotine  because  their 
bodies  need  it.  They  do  not  throw  into  themselves 
stuff  that  a  hog  would  grunt  at  and  turn  tail  to  be- 
cause they  like  it.  They  do  so  because  others  do  it. 
Man  and  his  mate  are  the  only  creatures  under  heaven 
that  will  do  what  they  know  will  injure  their  bodies 
and  brains  and  impair  the  health  of  their  offspring. 
Any  other  animal,  fowl,  insect  or  reptile  will  observe 
instinctively  the  thing  wherein  safety  lies,  and  will  not 
depart  from  the  law  that  nature  has  made.  Not  so  with 
man  and  woman.  Those  things  that  all  sane  men 
know  will  steal  away  their  brains  and  deaden  ambi- 
tion, are  taken  with  a  certain  bravado,  as  if  there  were 
a  spark  of  manliness  in  making  of  oneself  a  fool. 

99 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

I  do  not  know,  but  I  am  led  to  believe  that  when  men 
and  women  learn  to  appreciate  their  unlimited  possi- 
bilities, and  realize  fully  that  they  are  gods  in  the 
chrysalis,  they  will  quit  this  aping  servility,  this  slav- 
ish bowing  of  the  knee  to  fashion's  foibles,  and  strive 
to  make  each  life  real  and  absolutely  true.  We  but 
show  our  weaknesses  when  we  confess  by  our  acts 
that  we  cannot  rise  above  the  prevailing  wills  and 
customs  of  our  day.  Any  woman  can  be  a  Tittering 
Jennie  where  all  the  rest  are  Tittering  Jennies,  but 
it  takes  the  real  virtues  of  strong  womanhood  to  make 
of  oneself  a  Florence  Nightingale.  Anything  that 
wears  pantaloons  and  a  whisker  can  acquire  the  cigar- 
ette habit,  with  cocktail  and  red  curtain  attachments; 
Nature  is  as  ready  to  help  a  fool  be  a  fool,  as  she  is 
to  assist  a  Solomon  to  be  a  greater  than  Solomon. 


100 


ENTHUSIASM  $Sg  GENIUS 


"I  awoke  one  morning  and  found  myself 
famous  .  '  '  —  Byron. 


HE  conformist  is  a  man  who  will  not 
grow.  The  non-conformist  is  a  man 
who  will  not  stop  growing.  The  en- 
thusiast is  a  non-conformist, 
with  vitality  plus.  The  enthusi- 
astic boy  is  the  pride  of  his 
father,  and  his  mother's  joy.  Every- 
body else  likes  him,  too.  His  en- 
thusiasm is  recognized  as  vigorous, 
open-hearted  honesty.  It  is  intensi- 
fied gladness :  life  plus,  with  bubbles 
on  the  side.  But  enthusiasm  in  Little 
Bill  and  enthusiasm  in  Big  Bill  are 
two  distinct  commodities:  one  com- 
mands the  applause  of  all  men,  and 
the  other  the  haw-haws  of  the  gal- 
lery, and  the  snickers  of  the  parquet. 
Men  who  do  not  understand  have  a 
peculiar  dislike  for  the  enthusiastic 
individual.  |f  He  is  too  blamed 
anxious  to  be  a-doing  things  to 
please  the  man  satisfied  to  let  well 
enough  alone.  There  are  some  men 
so  dried  up  by  jealousy  and  jaundice 
as  not  to  understand  the  connecting 
link  between  the  enthusiast  and  the 
genius.  And  some  men  are  quite 
101 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

alarmed  when  their  friends  hint  at  enthusiasm  in  con- 
nection with  their  name  and  work. 
The  fact  is,  there  is  just  a  step  between  the  enthusiast 
and  the  genius.  The  enthusiast  is  laughed  at  for  his 
earnestness ;  while  the  genius  is  applauded  for  his  en- 
thusiasm. The  only  real  difference  between  them  is 
that  one  has  caught  the  world's  applause,  while  the 
other  is  honored  by  its  sneers.  It  is  just  a  question  of 
one's  viewpoint  to  discover  where  the  enthusiast  leaves 
off  and  the  genius  begins.  Today's  sneers  are  quite 
often  tomorrow's  cheers.  The  enthusiast  who  is 
winked  at  today,  may  tomorrow  be  the  genius  on 
whose  neck  the  world  falls  with  eclat. 
fl  To  be  an  enthusiast,  a  man  must  exercise  the  zeal  of 
a  genius.  He  must  have  that  intensity  of  earnestness ; 
that  strength  and  clearness  of  imagination;  that  hon- 
esty and  boldness  of  heart,  to  stand  unmoved  amid  all 
the  jeers  and  cheers  for  what  he  holds  to  be  true.  A 
man  must  be  morally  and  physically  strong  to  be  an 
enthusiast.  He  must  be  himself  at  whatever  cost,  and 
will  cheerfully  lose  his  life  to  save  it.  He  throws  not 
only  his  strength  into  his  work,  but  also  his  person- 
ality, thus  making  his  work  a  live  thing  to  sing  the 
praises  of  the  man  who  made  it,  long  after  he  is  dead 
and  buried.  His  body  and  his  mentality  are  only  the 
seed;  the  fruit  of  his  life  may  not  come  until  long 
years  afterward. 

The  man  who  is  afraid  to  be  winked  at — afraid  to 
brave  the  rules  of  conformity — will  never  have  occa- 
sion to  alarm  himself  or  his  friends  about  the  perils 
of  greatness.  An  enthusiast  finds  himself  everlast- 

102 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

ingly  a  knocker  of  dead  men's  idols.  That  means  a 
life  of  trial,  of  hard  work  and  fainting  not.  From  the 
man  Jesus  all  down  the  ages  it  has  been  the  enthusiast 
who  has  kept  the  world  in  growing  pains.  He  has 
put  Life  abundant  into  business,  into  society,  into 
home,  into  community.  The  sum  of  all  faith,  all  hope, 
all  work,  is  enthusiasm.  It  has  covered  the  earth  with 
its  accomplishments,  while  lack  of  it  has  brought  ruin 
to  a  vast  army  of  good  men. 


OUR  THOUGHTS  MAKE  US 

"Learn  the  luxury  of  doing  good," — Goldsmith, 

WHERE  is  the  man  who  does  not  know  that  it  is 
impossible  to  make  oneself  physically  stronger, 
mentally  clearer  or  spiritually  deeper  without  exercise 
of  the  physical,  mental  and  spiritual  faculties.  I  saw 
an  article  in  a  magazine  of  recent  issue  which  at- 
tempted to  disprove  the  brain-food  qualities  of  fish, 
and  cited  the  mental  condition  of  the  Esquimaux  and 
other  fish-eating  peoples,  to  show  how  absurd  the  be- 
lief. Without  attempting  to  prove  the  brain-food 
qualities  of  fish  meat,  or  meat  of  any  kind,  the  writer 
would  call  attention  to  this  fact,  that  brain  develop- 
ment, like  physical  development,  or  soul  development, 
depends  entirely  on  the  amount  of  exercise  that  is 
given  to  these  faculties,  and  not  on  the  character  of 

103 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

food  eaten.  Anything  tending  to  force  the  faculties 
into  disuse  retards  their  growth.  To  make  life  easy 
is  to  set  it  back.  Through  inactivity  we  lose  our  divine 
individuality,  the  only  thing  Godlike  in  us. 


JOY  OF  EXPRESSING  LIFE 

"The  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes,   and  the  children's 
teeth  are  set  on  edge." — Ezekiel. 

WHEN  man  reaches  the  atmosphere  of  the  Divine, 
he  will  be  Divine.  And  man  may  reach  the 
atmosphere  of  the  Divine  just  in  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  unrestricted  expression  he  permits  Nature 
through  him.  Whether  that  will  be  in  his  present  form 
and  in  this  world,  or  in  the  future  state,  it  matters 
little.  He  must  grow  into  the  Divine  if  he  ever  is  to 
reach  it. 

There  is  one  natural  state.  That  is  the  Divine  State 
of  Nature.  Any  other  state  is  as  unnatural  as  it  is 
fictitious,  artificial.  The  trees  and  plants  and  flowers — 
all  forms  of  life,  vegetable,  animal  and  mineral — are 
a  part  of  that  natural  state ;  all  are  good,  though  none 
are  perfect  or  can  be  perfect  in  this  life;  that  is,  ev- 
erything is  susceptible  to  further  growth. 
In  the  plant  kingdom,  was  ever  a  bush  budded  and 
nursed  to  fruitage  that  bore  the  best  that  could  be 
borne  by  that  particular  variety  of  bush  or  tree?  And 
in  the  animal  kingdom,  was  ever  an  animal — man 

104 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

or  beast — born  that  achieved  perfection,  beyond  which 
point  none  other  could  go  ?  fl  It  is  true  that  no 
standard  of  perfection  may  be  set  for  man  or  beast 
or  any  other  creeping  or  breathing  thing.  The  human 
mind  cannot  grasp  the  meaning  of  perfection.  And, 
since  perfection  cannot  be  grasped  by  the  human 
mind,  man  cannot  hope  to  reach  it  in  his  present 
condition.  But  he  may  ever  grow  into  nearer  perfec- 
tion and  eventually  Nature  must  reach  perfection 
through  him. 

I  sometimes  think  that  man,  in  his  efforts  to  be  what 
Nature  did  not  intend  him,  is  missing  the  joy  of  a 
life  of  expression.  The  height  of  all  orthodox  teach- 
ing is  that  man  shall  be  good.  But  no  two  minds  will 
agree  as  to  what  constitutes  being  good,  or  being  bad ; 
hence  the  man  who  wastes  his  time  trying  to  "be 
good,"  fails  to  express  the  life  that  Nature  intends 
for  him.  I  do  not  believe  that  Nature  ever  demands 
of  man,  animal  or  any  living  thing,  something  he  is 
incapable  of  doing  or  being.  Man  himself  has  set  the 
standard,  and  as  a  result  it  is  one  that  restricts  him 
and  makes  him  untrue  to  the  natural  tendencies  in 
him.  All  of  Nature  is  not  "good"  in  the  sense  that  man 
is  taught  to  be  good.  We  have  to  take  the  storm  with 
the  sunshine;  the  evil  with  the  good;  the  happy  with 
the  sad;  the  bitter  with  the  sweet.  Without  "bad" 
there  could  not  be  any  good ;  without  sorrow  no  hap- 
piness ;  without  rain  no  harvest,  fl  Had  there  been  no 
crucifixion  there  would  have  been  no  salvation;  with- 
out persecution,  no  Savior. 
We  cannot  always  understand;  often  we  are  gravely 

105 


TETET  HEART  OF  THINGS 

mistaken.  We  are  mistaken  because  we  think  that 
God  and  Nature  are  perfect.  Nature  makes  nothing 
perfect.  Neither  does  God.  The  highest  thing  credited 
to  Him — in  fact,  the  thing  made  in  His  own  image, — 
proved  imperfect  before  it  learned  to  know  right  from 
wrong. 

And  yet,  everything  was  made  to  attain  perfection. 
Everything  must  grow  into  perfection,  and  by  a  nat- 
ural order  of  things. 

The  flower  is  taken  in  its  wild  state  and  by  a  succes- 
sion of  plantings  and  buddings  is  slowly  brought  to  a 
higher  state  of  beauty  and  usefulness.  A  similar 
process  characterizes  the  growth  of  every  other  form 
of  life.  The  dross  is  taken  with  the  gold  and  by  a 
succession  of  burnings  and  siftings  the  pure  metal  is 
brought  forth. 

Why  should  there  be  this  continual  striving  by  Nature, 
with  man  and  without  man,  through  him  and  inde- 
pendent of  him,  towards  the  goal  of  perfection?  Is  it 
because  the  Power  we  call  God  is  made  happier  by 
seeing  it  done,  or  is  it  because  Nature  is  the  Power 
Itself  and  that  we  as  men,  and  our  brothers,  the  trees, 
the  plants,  the  birds,  the  beasts  and  the  things  that 
crawl  and  creep  and  swim,  all  are  expressions  of  the 
same  Life  through  which  He  or  It,  or  whatever  it  be- — 
God — is  striving  for  greater  perfection?  If  All  Na- 
ture is  the  seen — the  tangible — expression  of  the  Power 
That  Is,  and  man  is  but  a  part  or  phase  of  that  ex- 
pression, then  man  is  as  near  God  today  as  he  will 
be  in  any  future  state,  and  heaven  then  will  be  what 
heaven  is  today — now — and  here. 

106 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Life  presents  this  law  of  compensation  that  we  can- 
not escape.  Nor  should  we  want  to.  We  draw  down 
in  exact  proportion  to  the  amount  we  put  up.  Nature 
never  gives  something  for  nothing.  The  price  is  asked 
and  must  be  paid.  All  she  asks,  and  all  she  gives, 
is  a  Square  Deal.  And  so,  when  we  are  content  to 
live  our  little  day  in  weakness  and  folly,  Nature  con- 
cludes that  we  haven't  much  desire  to  do  anything 
else  and  leaves  us  alone.  But  our  refusal  to  act  does 
not  impair  Nature's  progress.  She  strives  for  greater 
expression  and  reaches  greater  perfection — without 
us  if  we  will  not  allow  it  with  us.  fl  We  lose  in  the 
refusal.  Nature  does  not. 

I  think  the  animals  and  insects  and  the  plants  and 
birds  are  happier  than  we  because  they  act  simply  and 
without  thought,  and,  therefore,  give  a  truer  expres- 
sion of  the  Life  that  animates  them. 
While  man  is  calling  aloud  to  God  for  forgivenness, 
and  trying  to  be  good,  the  animals  just  feel  that  they 
never  did  quarrel  with  God  and  go  right  on  living — 
true  to  the  Expression  of  Life  in  them.  And  it  does 
seem  to  me,  that  Life  so  expressed — true  to  the  Na- 
ture of  the  vessel  through  which  it  comes, — is  the  life 
that  counts  in  the  long  run,  whether  it  be  in  man  or 
beast,  or  the  tiniest  molecule  in  the  One  Great  Whole. 


107 


A1HOTJGHT  ON  HILL  COMBING 

"But  on  and  up,  where  Nature's  heart 
Beats  strong  amid  the  hills." — Milnes. 


FRIEND  writes  for  information.  He 
says:  "The  position  that  I  have  se- 
lected to  fill  is  not  above  me.  I  think 
I  have  chosen  one  that  will  indeed 
be  an  honor  to  me  if  success  will 
crown  my  wishes,  which  I  have  per- 
fect confidence  that  it  will.  What  is 
it  that  I  must  do  to  prepare  myself?" 
jf  Keep  hustling ! 

|f  In  these  two  words  we  have  the 
gist  of  it  all.  Keep  hustling !  Today 
— tomorrow — the  next  day — always ! 
We  have  never  done  enough  so  long 
as  there  is  more  to  do.  It  is  not 
enough  to  choose  a  calling  and  wish 
for  success.  Plod  on!  Keep  plod- 
ding !  Don't  stop  to  let  someone  pat 
you  on  the  back  for  having  decided 
what  you  want  to  be.  It  is  well 
to  have  made  a  choice;  yes,  it  is 
very  well.  But,  dear  Goodness !  that 
isn't  enough!  Mercy,  no! 
Whatever  your  decision,  look  sharp 
that  you  do  not  spoil  it  by  dwelling 
too  long  upon  it.  fl  Nothing  counts 
so  much  for  community  advance- 
ment as  individual  advancement: 
and  nothing  aids  in  the  individual's 
1 08 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

advancement  so  much  as  the  forgetfulness  of  self  in 
the  effort  to  advance  the  aim  and  object  of  the  indi- 
vidual. All  advancement  is  gradual.  And  at  every 
step  effort  is  required.  Every  effort  requires  strength, 
either  of  character  or  of  mind  and  body,  and  with 
every  exertion  there  is  growth  sufficient  to  prepare  one 
for  the  next  step. 

It  is  always  pleasing  to  hear  an  individual  express  a 
desire  to  run  ahead  of  the  pack.  It  is  pleasing,  be- 
cause before  there  came  that  desire  in  the  man's  heart 
there  was  the  awakening  of  the  individual.  And  an 
awakened  individual  means  one  that  is  prepared  to 
grow.  But  have  a  care!  After  the  awakening  there 
comes,  first  the  testing  time;  then  the  waiting  time; 
then  the  dark ;  then  the  light ;  and  after  this,  wealth — 
not  of  soul,  but  of  pocket.  And  herein  is  the  test  of 
endurance!  All  other  trials  are  as  nothing  beside  it. 
|f  Oh,  yes ;  that  is  true.  When  wealth  of  pocket  comes, 
the  common  thought  has  it  that  therein  comes  Success, 
but  poor,  indeed,  were  Success  if  the  accumulation  of 
wealth  were  the  acme  of  it  all ! 

About  the  first  thing  that  confronts  a  man  who  starts 
out  on  the  road  to  Success  is  a  disappointment.  This 
is  followed  by  disappointment  number  two,  and  num- 
ber three,  and  four — and  perhaps  more.  Things  do 
not  go  the  way  you  want  them  to.  Then  the  weakling 
drops  out  and  joins  the  croaking  chorus.  Complaints 
are  laid  at  the  head  office,  and  all  the  while  the  fault 
is  our  own.  We  forget  that  somebody  else  is  pleased 
if  we  are  not ;  and  that  the  world  is  quite  as  happy  at 

109 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

their  pleasure  as  it  would  be  at  our  own;  and  so,  in 
that  broad,  universal  sense,  it  is  just  as  well. 
If  you  would  win  Success,  leave  croaking  to  the  frogs ; 
they  can  do  it  much  better  than  you.  If  your  doorway 
is  dark,  and  your  foresight  poor;  if  you  cannot  see  the 
bright  side  of  the  clouds  overshadowing  your  path,  go 
and  immerse  yourself  in  a  bath  tub;  then  go  to  bed. 
Tomorrow  you  will  awake  filled  with  radiating  cheer, 
and  prosperity  will  be  budding  on  every  bush,  fl  Boost 
yourself  higher.  No  doubt  the  world  can  get  along 
without  you;  but  not  so  well  as  with  you.  If  things 
are  not  coming  your  way,  catch  on,  and  get  the  most 
out  of  them  as  they  fly  by  some  other  way.  fl  Think 
how  lop-sided  your  life  would  be  if  all  that  is  were 
yours,  and  came  to  you  without  any  effort  on  your 
part.  And  if  you  would  be  one-sided  with  all,  you 
would  be  one-sided  with  part — if  it  came  to  you  with- 
out your  putting  forth  any  effort  to  get  it.  If  you 
have  to  make  no  effort  for  what  you  have  you  lose  the 
source  of  preparation  for  the  next  accomplishment,  and 
without  preparation  you  are  sure  to  fail.  To  neglect 
preparation  is  to  reject  Success,  fl  There  isn't  anything 
else  for  it. 

The  man  who  is  careless  about  keeping  his  appoint- 
ments, lavish  in  his  promises,  and  negligent  in  keeping 
them,  whether  he  be  preacher,  teacher,  banker,  mer- 
chant or  roustabout — and  one  calling  is  as  honorable 
as  the  other,  provided  the  man  who  fills  it  is  as  faith- 
ful to  his  trust  as  the  other — I  say  the  man  who  prom- 
ises much  and  fails  to  come  up  with  the  goods,  is 
doomed  to  stay  a  mediocre  man — and  he  will  deserve 

no 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

it.  The  sooner  we  realize  this  and  wake  up  or  stand 
aside  and  make  room  for  another,  the  better  will  it  be 
for  us  and  everybody  else. 

Men  are  usually  more  ready  to  blame  others  for  their 
failures  than  to  acknowledge  their  own  weakness. 
ft  Adam  started  his  sons  off  wrong  in  this  respect — 
what  did  I  tell  you !  fl  They  believe  if  they  could  just 
have  things  to  their  liking,  they  would  do  wonders! 
But,  really,  no  man  ever  succeeded  who  was  able  to 
travel  all  the  distance  from  start  to  finish  in  an  auto- 
mobile. No  man  could  get  up  ambition  enough  to 
succeed  in  anything  but  a  failure  on  a  bed  of  roses. 
No  doubt  there  be  roses  bordering  the  path  of  Success, 
but  it  is  the  thorns  that  spur  a  man  on.  fl  Success  is 
not  easily  won.  |f  It  doesn't  grow  on  low-hanging 
bushes. 

The  man  who  is  always  grumbling  is  always  fumbling. 
While  he  is  complaining  of  this  difficulty  and  that, 
and  bemoaning  his  lot,  somebody  else  by  his  side  is 
working  out  problems  and  surmounting  difficulties 
greater  far  than  his.  And  without  a  whimper !  fl  Why, 
bless  you,  friend;  it  never  was  intended  that  man 
should  live  without  having  obstacles  to  overcome. 
That  story  about  Adam  and  Eve,  and  the  "fall"  of 
man,  as  we  understand  it,  is  a  bit  of  moonshine.  Life 
wouldn't  be  worth  living  if  there  were  no  trials  to  test 
us  and  give  us  more  strength  and  courage.  Every 
trial  is  a  blessing,  fl  We  plead  for  more  grace,  more 
faith,  more  love:  and  neglect  to  use  what  we  have! 
Ask  a  professional  gymnast  what  course  to  pursue  that 
you  may  increase  your  muscular  power,  your  agility 

in 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  bodily  grace.  Will  he  tell  you  to  go  home  and 
he  will  send  the  "how"  by  special  delivery?  Not  much ! 
He  lays  out  a  course  for  you  to  follow  that  compels 
you  to  exercise  what  strength  you  have.  And  you  can 
get  no  more  until  you  do.  Thus  we  find  it  in  all  the 
faculties  of  the  brain  and  heart.  We  grow  strong  in 
the  things  we  exercise.  That  is  why  obstacles  make 
for  Success — if  we  overcome  them.  Each  gives  us 
more  strength  for  the  next. 

The  aim  of  every  man  is  to  succeed  in  achieving  his 
standard  of  Success.  What  this  standard  is  each  man 
knows  for  himself,  and  keeps  it  to  himself — or  should. 
We  talk  about  Success  as  if  it  were  a  mysterious 
Something  always  at  the  other  end  of  a  long-distance 
telephone.  We  feel  that  we  can  talk  to  it  and  about 
it,  but  cannot  get  in  direct  touch  with  it.  This  is  a 
tremendous  error.  To  succeed  now — this  moment — 
that  is  Success — the  only  Success  worth  striving  for. 
Succeed  in  what?  Why,  in  Service.  In  the  measure 
we  serve  others,  we  succeed,  fl  In  the  words  of  Geo. 
Knox:  "The  more  you  give,  the  more  you  have  left. 
Talent  begets  talent." 

There  are  certain  fundamental  principles  that  every 
man  must  adhere  to  to  be  successful,  no  matter  what 
legitimate  business  he  is  engaged  in.  First,  there 
must  be  faith  in  God  and  Man.  Many  very  pious 
people  that  I  have  known  have  had  much  faith  in  God, 
but  treat  their  fellows  as  if  every  man  were  a  rogue. 
Naturally  they  fail  in  everything  they  undertake. 
Then,  to  be  successful  it  goes  without  saying  that  we 
must  be  honest:  it  is  no  secret  that  strict  integrity  is 

112 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

the  foundation  of  every  legitimate  business  success. 
Honesty  begets  honesty,  just  like  love  begets  love. 
Then,  too,  we  must  not  limit  our  ambition :  work,  not 
drudgery,  but  healthful,  honest  work  is  the  price  of  all 
Success.  In  this,  as  in  all  things,  if  we  "pay  as  we 
go"  the  price  is  not  excessive.  And  then,  too,  we 
must  depend  on  ourselves;  exert  our  own  ability;  be 
economical,  but  not  penurious;  courteous,  careful  and 
thoughtful;  and  must  never  be  defeated  by  defeat. 
The  man  who  is  always  apologizing;  who  shrinks 
from  responsibility;  who  shirks,  and  sluffs  and  lops; 
who  never  dares  to  act  independently,  but  waits  to  be 
shoved  along,  never  will  stand  deuce  high  in  anything. 
He  is  humanity's  curse.  The  lazy  man,  and  the  man 
who  is  a  living  apology,  needs  no  after  punishment. 
They  are  already  damned.  God  wants  men  who  dare 
look  him  in  the  face;  who  can  stand  upright  before 
the  world  and  defy  defeat. 

To  Succeed,  then,  let  us  be  honest :  own  up  like  a  man 
that  you  are  the  cause  of  what  you  apologetically  call 
your  "ill-luck."  We  fritter  away  valuable  time  each 
day.  Failing  to  look  sharp,  we  do  not  see  the  oppor- 
tunities that  are  around  us  and  they  pass  us  by. 


SIMPLICITY  AND  GREATNESS. 

"The  world  knows  nothing  of  its  greatest  men." — Henry 
Taylor. 

WHEN  I  was  somewhat  younger  than  I  am  today, 
and  therefore  less  liable  to  discriminate,  I  was 
asked  by  a  companion:     "Hank,  do  you  think  you 

"3 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

ever  will  be  a  great  man?"  The  idea  amused  me,  and 
I  smiled  audibly.  Couldn't  help  it.  fl  It  was  so  funny. 
|f  Did  you  ever  try  to  define  greatness?  You  would 
'fail  if  you  did.  If  you  could  touch  elbows  with  the 
men  who  have  been  known  as  great  men,  what  char- 
acter of  man  do  you  think  you  would  find?  Would 
you  find  greatness,  as  we  understand  it,  personified? 
Indeed,  you  would  not.  You  would  find  simplicity 
incarnate.  |f  The  great  man  is  he  who  does  what  lies 
before  him  now  better  than  anyone  else  could  do  it, 
and  he  does  it  without  thought  of  greatness,  fl  He 
does  it  to  get  it  done.  No  man  was  made  great  in  the 
twinkle  of  an  eye.  He  may  come  into  prominence  sud- 
denly. His  name  may  never  have  been  heard  before, 
but  all  the  while  since  boyhood  he  has  been  preparing 
for  just  the  thing  which  is  to  bring  him  into  promi- 
nence like  a  meteor.  He  was  a  great  boy  before  he  be- 
came a  great  man — great  because  he  was  wise  enough 
to  be  content  to  be  faithful  in  the  duties  devolving  upon 
him  as  a  boy.  When  a  child,  he  was  simply  and  truly 
himself.  He  acted  for  himself;  he  spoke  for  himself; 
he  thought  for  himself;  he  was  none  other  than  him- 
self— and  did  not  want  to  be.  He  lived  his  own  life 
as  he  understood  it,  regardless  of  the  jeers  of  his 
enemies,  and  in  spite  of  the  applause  of  his  friends. 
When  misunderstood,  he  did  not  stop  to  complain  nor 
to  explain.  He  did  what  was  next  at  hand.  Thus  he 
was  as  great  in  childhood  as  in  his  manhood,  and  as 
humble  in  one  as  the  other.  Doing  what  was  before 
him  as  a  child,  however  disagreeable  it  may  have 
been,  he  grew  into  manhood  in  the  spirit  of  duty 

114 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

doing.     Preparation   for  the   greater  responsibilities 
came  with  the  execution  of  the  lesser. 

The  silly  world  applauds  him  as  a  man,  because  he 
has  caught  the  public's  fancy,  but  the  time  of  his  true 
greatness  was  when,  as  a  boy,  unknown  to  anyone 
but  his  schoolmates,  and  perhaps  by  them  dubbed 
"Shortie,"  he  used  to  do  things  just  a  little  bit  better 
than  any  of  the  other  boys  could  do  them. 
Man  wins  greatness  because  he  does  not  run  after  it. 
He  does  not  think  anything  about  it.  All  that  he  must 
care  to  know  is,  what  is  his  duty,  and,  knowing  it,  he 
must  do  it.  |f  And  he  never  can  afford  to  think  much 
about  what  the  world  is  saying  either  of  him  or  his 
duty.  "Socrates  won  immortality  because  he  did  not 
want  it,"  says  Hubbard,  "and  the  Sophists  secured 
oblivion  because  they  deserved  it." 
The  man  who  thinks  about  being  great,  never  is.  "I 
am  a  man  of  some  importance,"  said  a  caller  at  the 
Segnogram  home  one  day.  He  may  have  been,  I  do 
not  know;  but  it  would  have  been  an  easy  matter  to 
mistake  him  for  a  common  thing  about  the  size  of 
nuisance,  fl  If  you  and  I  are  not  great  enough  to 
luminate  the  drudgery  of  life  in  the  simplicity  of 
child-like  faith,  we  never  shall  be  great  enough  to 
draw  the  fire  of  the  God  of  Genius,  fl  And  if  we  are 
great  enough,  we  shall  not  need  to  advertise  the  fact. 
And  so,  dear  heart,  be  simple — be  simple. 


AND  NATURE  SMITES 

"What  a  gloomy  thing  it  is  not  to  know 
where  to  find  oneTs  soul." — Hugo. 


HY  should  there  be  so  much  that  is 
contrary  to  nature  in  what  man  has 
created  in  his  religious  life?  We 
are  lost  in  wonder  sometimes  when 
we  see  with  what  ease  Nature  does 
things,  and  compare  with  it  the  pol- 
icy of  man  in  his  aspirations  to 
reach  a  plane  beyond  himself. 
Nature  never  will  give  something 
for  nothing.  To  reach  a  given  point 
in  life  we  must  pass  through  cer- 
tain stages  of  growth — certain  disci- 
pline— certain  training.  jfWe  reach 
heaven  through  hell. 
We  do  not  expect  in  the  child  the 
understanding  of  the  man.  Nor  do 
we  look  for  a  natural  understanding 
in  the  man  whose  head  has  been 
turned  in  the  direction  of  life's 
veneer.  Therefore,  when  we  see  a 
man  endeavoring  to  harmonize  Na- 
ture Thoughts  with  those  of  the 
Unnatural,  and  striving  to  twist 
Nature  into  his  poor,  misshapen 
ideal  of  man,  we  pity  him  for  his 
blindness,  but  we  do  not  condemn 
him.  Nature  lets  him  go  ahead; 
she  does  not  become  excited  at  his 
116 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

strenuous  efforts,  nor  does  she  create  a  disturbance 
in  her  efforts  to  teach  him  a  better  way.  She  just 
allows  him  to  go  his  way  and  do  the  best  he  can, 
without  ever  changing  in  ever  so  minute  a  degree  her 
system.  She  knows  that  no  effort  can  be  entirely  lost, 
and,  while  man  may  bring  upon  himself  an  ungodly 
amount  of  misery  and  woe,  she  is  content  to  feel  that 
all  of  it  is  required  to  bring  him  into  a  more  natural 
state  of  being.  And  so  she  sits  calmly  enthroned 
behind  the  veil  and  looks  on,  knowing  that  one  day 
man  will  recognize  his  folly  and  come  to  her  for  a 
clearer  conception  of  life.  She  knows  that  man  is 
doing  the  best  he  can  with  the  light  he  has.  She 
would  help  him  do  more  but  may  not,  owing  to  the 
man's  unpreparedness,  and  his  inability  to  perceive 
things  in  a  natural  way.  She  throws  out  this  guard 
and  that,  to  prevent  him  drifting  away,  often  holding 
him  in  a  prison  cell,  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  or  banishing 
him  to  the  Isle  of  Patmos,  where  she  might  talk  with 
him  of  the  things  he  seeks  so  diligently  to  know,  and 
yet  which  are  too  simple  for  him  to  learn  in  the 
superficiality  of  his  position. 

I  sometimes  think  that  Nature  is  what  we  know  as 
the  All  Love.  She  is  so  big,  so  Infinite,  so  Divine, 
that  every  tiny  particle  of  the  What-Appears-to-Be- 
but-Is-Not  is  out  of  her,  and  she  sits  in  all  the  majesty 
of  her  simplicity,  the  Queen  of  the  Universe  of  the 
All  Wise.  She  is  so  pure  she  never  has  known  the 
absurdity  of  what  man  pictures  within  himself  and 
calls  sin;  and  so  wise  that  she  knows  there  isn't  any 
right  and  wrong  of  things,  but  that  all  is  right  and 

117 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

good  did  we  but  have  the  heart  and  scope  to  under- 
stand. She  would  teach  man  the  harmony  of  doing; 
that  in  service  only  is  Life  and  that  what  man  calls 
Death  is  nothing  more  than  a  transition  from  a  lower 
to  a  higher  form  of  expression. 

I  uncover  the  head  to  Nature.  She  is  divinely  good 
in  that  she  does  not  interfere  with  man.  She  permits 
him  to  do  as  he  will,  knowing  that  in  the  doing, 
whether  it  be  what  we  call  good  or  bad,  he  grows  into 
the  Being  Back  of  All. 

She  would  assist  him  would  he  but  let  her.  But 
Nature  is  not  blind.  She  knows  man  better  than  he 
knows  himself,  and  witnessing  his  efforts,  and  realiz- 
ing how  he  has  reversed  the  natural  law  of  the  uni- 
verse in  his  efforts  to  accomplish  her  purpose,  she 
hides  her  face  in  darkness  and  waits. 
How  long,  oh  God !  how  long !  And  all  the  while  man 
continues  to  strive  against  Nature  in  the  belief  that  he 
is  fighting  sin!  Dear  me!  dear  me!  What  a  tre- 
mendous amount  of  energy  is  wasted  in  this  old,  old 
fight  against  the  devil!  What  millions  are  spent  in 
trying  to  swamp  him!  And  all  the  while,  Nature  the 
Eternal,  for  whom  all  the  fight  is  said  to  be  made, 
utters  never  a  word.  While  man  and  priest  fling  their 
voices  loose  on  the  desert  air,  Nature  quietly,  myste- 
riously works  goodness  up  into  life  by  giving  expres- 
sion to  the  Power  Back  of  All.  ff  The  sorrow  of  it  is 
that  while  she  is  thus  engaged,  man  is  so  engrossed 
in  the  fight  against  Expression — so  determined  to 
suppress  the  flow  of  the  Abundant  Life — that  he  fails 

iz8 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

to  see  beyond  the  insignificant,  and  wastes  his  sub- 
stance on  earth's  stony  places. 

Why  do  some  men  get  so  much  more  out  of  life  than 
others?  The  answer  is  simple:  because  they  see  so 
much  more  in  life  than  others.  They  are  in  touch 
with  Nature — feel  the  pulsation  of  Nature's  heart; 
know  her  purpose;  recognize  her  infinity — and  on  top 
of  this — and  this  is  the  great  point — they  feel  their 
kinship  with  her  in  all  other  forms  of  expression,  and 
realize  that  they  are  the  Infinite  today  and  will  be  the 
Infinite  tomorrow,  wherever  tomorrow  is  spent. 
When  we  rise  to  a  higher  plane  and  look  beyond  the 
narrow  valley  in  which  orthodoxy  has  placed  us; 
when  we  mount  the  peaks  and  see  below  the  hills  and 
valleys  heretofore  trodden  by  us;  we  lose  ourselves  in 
wonderment,  for  we  see  with  new  eyes  the  landscape 
of  Nature  Life.  And  those  things  that  loomed  so 
large;  those  weaknesses  that  caused  us  such  pain  and 
sorrow;  those  false  notions  about  the  Power  Back  of 
Us,  they  disappear  one  by  one,  and  we  learn  to  pray  a 
new  prayer:  "Thy  Kingdom  has  come." 


119 


MADE  HIS  OWN  HELL 

"None  has  understood  you,  but  I  understand  you; 
None  has  done  justice  to  you,  you  have  not  done  justice  to  yourself; 
None  but  has  found  you  imperfect,   I  only  find  no   imperfection  in 
you."— Walt  Whitman. 


ALSE  teaching,  and  a  mistaken  idea 
of  modesty,  has  given  life  many 
distressing  vagaries  that  damn  men's 
souls  here,  and  carry  them  to  their 
graves  half  done.  I  do  not  know 
that  I  ever  witnessed  a  sadder  sight 
than  that  of  the  life  of  a  young  man 
of  sterling  training  in  the  science  of 
metallurgy,  a  general  favorite  in  so- 
cial and  what  the  world  calls  re- 
ligious circles,  and  a  master  in  the 
art  of  knowing  how  to  do  hard 
work.  He  was  one  of  these  "honor- 
bright"  fellows — a  man  whose  word 
was  better  than  his  bond — in  whom 
everybody  had  confidence,  for  so  far 
as  any  one  knew,  he  did  not  have  a 
vicious  habit.  But  beneath  the  coat 
of  the  faithful  church  worker — be- 
hind the  life  of  the  man  we  knew  as 
the  acme  of  religious  perfection — 
there  stalked  a  hidden  devil  more 
vile  than  that  of  the  libertine,  and 
more  thirsty  for  the  man's  life-blood 
than  would  have  been  the  god  of  a 
thousand  thousand  leeches. 
I  knew  the  young  man  several  years 
before  the  incident  I  am  about  to 
120 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

record  for  the  first  time.  In  all  that  time  I  never 
knew  him  to  act  anything  but  the  gentleman.  Faithful 
in  the  least  and  the  greatest  duties  that  were  thrust 
upon  him,  he  never  wanted  for  an  opportunity  to  do 
good  unto  others. 

Imagine  my  horror  when,  one  bright  Monday  morn- 
ing, in  the  little  mining  camp  where  we  were  living, 
the  newspaper  gave  this  account  of  the  young  man's 
death:  "This  morning  the  camp  was  startled  by  the 
sad  intelligence  that  T —  C —  had  been  drowned  in 
the  lake.  The  report  was  based  upon  the  fact  that  a 
boat  had  been  picked  up  on  the  beach  containing  the 
clothing  of  C — ,  together  with  bath  towel,  etc.  The 
general  supposition  is  that  he  was  taking  a  swim  in 
the  lake  late  at  night,  as  was  his  custom,  using  the 
boat  as  his  dressing  raft,  and  that  he  was  taken  with 
cramps  in  the  chilly  water.  Thus  will  be  explained 
the  tragic  ending  of  one  of  the  noblest  characters  that 
ever  has  hit  the  camp.  Honorable  in  all  things,  ever 
thoughtful  and  earnest  in  his  conduct  toward  others; 
mindful  always  of  their  good,  he  sought  relaxation  in 
the  cooling  waters — and  did  not  return.  How  the  end 
came — where  he  took  his  last  dive — will  never  be 
known,  for  he  was  alone,  and  it  was  late  at  night." 
That  was  all.  fl  People  do  not  express  their  sorrow  or 
their  sympathy  in  words,  in  one  of  these  mining 
camps.  They  have  a  better  way.  And  they  went 
about  their  work  after  a  few  hours  as  if  the  sun  had 
ever  shone  bright  and  warm.  And  there  T —  C — 
sleeps  today.  The  lake  is  as  deep  as  the  mountains 
surrounding  it  are  high.  Below  the  surface  of  the 

121 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

water  there  is  a  current  so  strong  as  to  draw  the 
strongest  swimmer  down,  and  once  a  body  gets  into 
its  icy  grasp  there  is  no  escape.  Down,  down  it  is 
carried;  how  far  nobody  shall  ever  know,  but  far 
enough  to  be  buried  for  ever  and  aye,  for  these  waters 
never  give  up  their  dead.  A  mighty  tomb,  whose 
surface  is  as  capricious  as  a  woman's  love,  soothing  as 
a  mother's  prayer;  in  calm  not  dead,  in  storm  not 
mournful;  ever  majestic  and  beautiful — a  fit  resting 
place  for  a  character  like  his. 

|f  But  there  was  one  in  that  mining  camp  who  knew 
something  of  the  life  of  the  young  man  that  the  young 
man  did  not  dare  tell  and  live.  And  yet  he  was  mighty 
brave.  A  hero  was  he.  He  was  a  savior,  but  was  not 
nailed  upon  the  cross. 

|f  Before  taking  his  last  swim  in  the  cold  waters  of  the 
lake,  T —  C —  wrote  briefly  what  he  dared  not  make 
known  and  live,  |f  And  he  told  it  with  his  pen 
dipped  in  his  life's  blood.  It  was  his  last  wish  that 
the  story  of  his  life  be  made  known.  He  gave  his  life 
that  it  might  be  published,  and  to  me  has  fallen  the 
painful  duty  of  carrying  out  the  wish  of  the  man  who 
counted  it  joy  to  lay  down  his  life  for  his  brethren. 
I  give  the  story  as  it  was  given  me.  It  is  the  wail  of 
a  soul  lost  in  the  darkness  of  night,  yet  brave  enough 
to  speak  the  word  of  warning  and  sound  the  danger 
signal,  and  when  this  is  done  to  stand  face  to  face  with 
his  God  and  say:  "Father,  I  did  the  best  I  could." 
|f  He  addressed  himself  to  the  "Church  authorities, 
medical  men,  schoolmasters,  parents,  and  those  having 
the  training  of  children  throughout  the  world: 

122 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

"A  lost,  despairing  soul,  on  the  way  to  hell  and 
destruction,  wants  a  word  with  you  ere  he  goes.  Have 
you  done  your  duty  to  the  young  under  your  charge, 
in  instructing  them  about  themselves?  Have  you  told 
them  of  the  horrors  and  dangers  of  self-abuse?  And 
if  not,  why  have  you  neglected  your  duty  to  those 
whom  God  has  placed  under  your  care? 
"Let  me  tell  you  my  history.  My  father  died  when 
I  was  only  six  years  of  age,  and  at  eight  I  was  placed 
in  a  large  school  near  London,  Eng.,  where  this  vice 
flourished  unchecked  all  the  time  I  was  there,  for  over 
five  years.  Not  a  word  of  instruction  ever  came  to 
those  fatherless  boys  except  from  one  gentleman,  a 
man  over  fifty  years  of  age,  dressed  in  a  silk  hat  and 
frock  coat,  who  used  to  take  great  interest  in  the 
swimming  performances.  This  villain,  although  pos- 
sessed of  a  grown-up  family  of  his  own,  used  to  secure 
the  good  wishes  of  the  boys  by  his  generosity  and 
then,  under  the  guise  of  his  interest  in  swimming, 
used  to  teach  them  the  awful  practice  which  I  dare 
not  name  again.  As  he  was  allowed  to  preach  in  the 
school  chapel  on  some  occasions,  and  was  looked  up 
to  by  everybody  connected  with  the  institution,  what 
blame  to  the  poor  children  that  many  have  fallen 
under  this  terrible  evil,  fl  A  fine  swimmer  myself,  I 
came  directly  under  his  notice,  and  his  baneful  in- 
fluence has  cost  me  not  only  my  own  life,  but  has 
wrecked  and  ruined  many  others,  including  the  purest, 
sweetest  girl  that  ever  lived.  I  left  the  school  a  bril- 
liant scholar  at  the  head  of  the  science  classes,  and 
winning  a  scholarship  at  the  Government  School  of 

123 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

Mines  at  South  Kensington.  For  three  years  I  re- 
mained there,  living  at  home  meanwhile,  where  I  had 
not  the  instruction  of  a  single  man  resident.  Since 
then  I  have  always  attended  Divine  services  regularly 
and  have  been  a  Sunday-School  and  Bible  Class 
attendant  almost  all  the  time,  yet  this  subject,  more 
important  to  the  young  even  than  the  evils  of  the 
liquor  traffic,  has  never  been  brought  home  to  me  by 
those  whose  duty  I  consider  it  was.  My  life  has  been 
moral  in  every  other  respect,  for  I  have  always 
guarded  against  the  evils  which  have  been  pointed  out 
to  me,  such  as  drinking,  gambling  and  loose  living, 
but  how  was  I  to  know  the  awful  fate  that  was  in 
store  for  me? 

"Oh,  rouse  to  your  duties  in  this  matter!  Ye  churches, 
ye  doctors,  ye  schoolmasters,  ye  Bible-class  teachers, 
ye  parents!  The  vice  is  hidden,  and  so  all  the  more 
dangerous.  It  is  thought  to  be  natural  by  nearly  all, 
though  the  voice  of  conscience  tells  them  feebly  that 
it  is  not  right,  fl  Speak  out !  for  the  demons  of  hell 
are  laughing  at  my  helplessness!  Away  with  false 
modesty:  tell  the  young  man  of  his  danger  ere  it  is 
too  late;  ere  he  is  confronted  with  the  insane  asylum 
or  the  suicide's  grave. 

"Just  twenty-six  years  of  age;  in  fine  robust  health, 
with  every  advantage  that  a  young  man  could  desire 
in  business,  social  and  religious  circles,  I  find  myself 
going  to  hell  without  anyone  being  the  wiser;  loved 
ones,  and  the  girl  I  have  won,  soon  to  be  filled  with 
anguish  and  misery  unspeakable  because  someone 
neglected  his  duty  in  the  past. 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

"On  two  occasions  only  I  might  have  had  the  instruc- 
tion which  would  have  saved  my  body  and  soul,  but 
on  each  I  just  missed  it;  my  misfortune. 
"For  Christ's  sake,  speak  out  boldly.  Don't  hide  the 
truth  under  a  bushel.  Let  not  the  cry  be  from  thou- 
sands of  ruined  boys  and  girls,  'Nobody  ever  has  told 
me  before.' 

"I  shall  not  die  in  vain  if  only  one  other  be  saved  the 
awful  agonies  through  which  I  have  passed  to  my 
death,  to  be  damned  for  ever,  fl  Shame  forbids  me  to 
tell  my  name,  so  let  me  rest  where  the  devil  has  placed 
me." 

A  sad  story  this.  And  yet,  many  might  be  told  that 
are  no  more  joyful.  So  bound  up  in  the  idea  of 
"saving  souls"  for  the  imaginary  heaven  far  away 
that  they  have  not  time  to  teach  the  boys  and  girls 
that  to  maintain  a  clean,  moral  life,  and  a  shining 
countenance  here  and  now  is  heaven,  as  much  as  it 
ever  will  be,  and  that  to  see  God  and  be  like  Him  it  is 
only  necessary  for  us  to  express  Him  in  a  natural  way, 
in  and  through  the  work  we  do. 


MAN'S  INHUMANITY  TO  GOD. 

"Man  makes  God  in  his  own  image,"— Fra  Elbertus. 

LAST  night  the  citizens  of  San  Francisco  went  to 
their  beds  happy  and  contented  with  life  and  with 
themselves.  This  morning  they  were  rudely  awakened 
by  an  earthquake  shock  that  tumbled  them  from  their 
beds.     Great  massive  buildings  of  cement  and  brick 

12$ 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

and  steel  and  stone  were  twisted  and  torn,  and  their 
towers  toppled  and  fell  into  the  streets.  The  devasta- 
tion was  terrible  enough,  but  it  was  nothing  compared 
with  the  horrors  of  the  fire  that  followed.  Today  the 
city  of  the  Argonauts  is  in  flames,  and  tomorrow  will 
be  in  ashes.  Three  hundred  thousand  souls  are  made 
homeless,  and  the  loss  of  property  will  amount  to  half 
a  billion  dollars.  The  awful  experiences  of  those  brave 
people  will  never  be  known.  Hundreds  were  killed 
beneath  falling  walls;  thousands  were  injured,  and 
other  thousands  lost  all  they  had  but  what  they  could 
save  in  a  pillow-case.  Their  loss  and  their  suffering 
was  appalling. 

America  never  witnessed  anything  like  it  in  all  her 
history,  and  the  world  few  catastrophies  that  have 
compared  with  it  in  their  devastation.  Already  we 
hear  talk  about  "the  hand  of  God,"  and  He  is  blamed 
for  all  of  it. 
j[  Poor  God ! 

When  Mount  Pelee  belched  lava,  and  wrought  such 
destruction  in  the  fertile  valley  over  which  it  looks, 
and  thousands  of  lives  were  lost,  and  millions  of  dol- 
lars' worth  of  property  left  in  ruins,  there  was  more 
talk  about  "the  hand  of  God." 
If  Poor  God ! 

When  Vesuvius  renewed  her  activities  recently  and 
wrought  more  havoc  to  the  good  people  living  near, 
when  thousands  were  driven  from  their  homes  and 
left  destitute,  there  was  more  talk  about  "the  hand  of 
God."  U  Poor  God !  Aye,  poor  God ! 
It  was  ever  thus! 

126 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

When  we  do  not  understand  the  cause  of  things  we 
lay  it  to  God.  fl  Every  war,  every  great  catastrophe, 
every  horror  that  leaves  the  world  in  tears,  and  brings 
pain  to  the  heart  of  humanity,  is  credited  to  God. 
"He  knows  about  it  all ;  He  knows ;  He  knows !"  Yes, 
dear  heart;  He  knows. 

But  volcanic  eruptions  are  as  natural  as  sunshiny 
days,  though  not  so  frequent.  They  are  like  boils  on 
the  neck  of  mother  earth,  through  which  exudes  that 
which  she  must  throw  off.  The  cause,  according  to 
the  accessible  facts,  may  be  placed  to  the  accumula- 
tion of  steam  or  vapor  deep  down  in  the  earth,  and 
the  throwing  of  lava  and  ashes  is  accounted  for  by 
the  displacement  of  millions  of  tons  of  rock  miles 
below  the  earth's  surface. 

And  earthquakes,  as  is  well  known,  are  due  to  natural 
subterranean  concussion.  While  the  more  violent, 
destructive  shocks  are  not  of  frequent  occurrence, 
except  in  localities  where  the  earth's  formation  seems 
to  be  more  easily  affected,  yet  slight  tremors  are  of 
surprising  frequency,  as  is  shown  by  the  delicate 
instruments  now  in  use.  We  speak  of  the  earth  as  a 
terra  firma,  because  we  do  not  know  any  better.  But 
the  fact  is,  the  earth  is  anything  but  a  terra  firma. 
Why  man  should  seek  to  lay  all  these  horrible  catas- 
trophies  up  against  God  is  beyond  comprehension. 
Perhaps  because  man  still  believes  that  "God  is  a 
jealous  God,  and  visits  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon 
the  children."  And  so  when  man  creates  sin  for  him- 
self, and  looks  for  God  to  get  jealous,  he  expects  Him 
to  send  punishment  upon  him. 

127 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

I  wonder  if  God  coaxed  those  people  of  Pompeii  to 
build  their  city  under  the  crater's  mouth  so  He  could 
run  rivers  of  lava  over  them  and  bury  them  in  hot 
ashes  ?  fl  I  wonder  if  God  decoyed  the  people  up 
under  the  brow  of  Mount  Pelee  so  they  could  be 
caught  like  rats  in  a  trap  and  buried  under  tons  of 
ashy  sand?  ft  I  wonder  if  God  put  greed  into  the 
hearts  of  men  and  induced  them  to  erect  these  sky- 
scraping  buildings  that  they  might  topple  over  with 
the  first  heavy  quake  of  the  earth  and  start  fires  to 
wreak  vengeance  upon  the  thousands  of  poor  unfor- 
tunates who  never  drew  a  cent  of  the  immense  profits. 
1f  I  wonder— but  what  is  the  use?  fl  "It  is  God's  will/' 
says  man,  and  God  does  not  deny  the  accusation. 
But  oh,  dear  me!  What  a  shame!  What  a  shame, 
that  man  will  blindly  go  to  the  limit  of  reason  in  his 
mad  groping  for  wealth  and  place  and  power,  bring- 
ing destruction  upon  himself,  and  then  blame  God  for 
the  coming  of  the  devastation,  fl  When  we  hear  of 
such  a  horror  as  that  which  has  befallen  San  Fran- 
cisco, we  feel  sad,  and  tears  of  sympathy  flow,  but 
when  we  can  take  ourselves  out  of  the  hearing  of  the 
tolling  church  bells,  the  moans  of  the  distressed,  the 
cry  of  the  hungry,  and  the  sound  of  the  praying 
priests,  who  thank  God  they  are  not  as  other  men 
since  they  have  been  spared  the  destruction  that  has 
come  to  others ;  I  say,  when  we  can  get  out  of  hearing 
of  these  things,  and  draw  close  to  Nature's  heart  in 
the  quiet  of  the  forest  of  our  own  thoughts,  we  may 
hear  the  sweet  lullaby  of  Her  Mother  Love  as  She 
draws  the  curtain  upon  all  of  it;  and  can  feel  the 

128 


THE  HEART  OF  THINGS 

sorrow  that  is  Hers  because  her  children  will  bring 

pain  upon  themselves. 

Poor  children. 

Poor  God. 

Poor  Earth. 

Poor  Devil. 


Next  to  the  woman  who  does  not  gossip,  the  noblest 
work  of  God  is  the  man  who  does  not  grouch. 

You  will  find  soft  spots  in  this  hard  old  world  if  you 
carry  a  cushion  for  your  neighbor  to  sit  upon. 

The  trouble  with  most  men  who  have  troubles,  is  that 
they  look  for  an  outward  transformation  without  an 
inward  illumination. 

When  we  forget  ourselves  and  speak  the  word  fresh 
from  the  heart,  we  are  liable  to  tell  more  of  Truth 
than  we  knew  we  knew  or  could  have  imagined. 

It  is  not  fair  to  judge  a  man  by  his  achievements.  We 
can  measure  only  his  ability  that  way.  The  man  the 
world  thinks  a  failure  often  has  in  his  heart  grander 
motives  than  the  man  of  wealth  even  could  imagine. 


129 


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